A gym can be quite a daunting place for your average person, particularly when you are on a sideways, rubber-burning skid towards 40 with a well developed muffin top like I am.
Every gym has an area that is the schoolyard equivalent of behind the toilets - it's where all the tough kids hang out and you're a little bit scared to walk past it in case they tell you to f*ck off away from their patch and start chasing you.
The gym version of 'behind-the-toilets' is where they keep all of the serious weights, with mirrors covering a complete wall. People who hang out there grunt a lot and tend to walk around the area like the head of a pride of lions, snatching sideways looks at themselves in the mirrored wall every couple of steps. Navigating your way through the behind-the-toilets area is like crossing the back lawn when your dog has the shits and your teenager is on poop scoop strike - you take your life in your hands!
I have always avoided the behind-the-toilets area. I have no idea what to do with any of the stuff in there and need to spend another 10 months dieting to look like I am a regular with any form of weights.
Until Rob (personal trainer) showed me a few moves that he guaranteed would banish my fadoobaddas (those floppy CWA lady arms) and pull my love handles into line. So in I walk. As luck would have it, the pissy weights I needed were the closest to the mirrors so I had to pick my way past grunting, up and down looks (yes, you are THAT obvious) and almost copped a barbell in the right ear!
Why bother, I thought. Why not just stick to running, push ups, sit ups and the big blow up ball thing I can never frigging balance on??!
Because I am not there to get ripped muscles. Or have a body that I can pose with at the pub on Friday night. Or show anyone else how strong/toned/buff I am. I am not on the cabbage diet, the bikini diet or lemon detox kickstart your summer here program.
My greatest fear is that my body will give out before my brain does. I am scared that I will be mistaken for my childrens granny when they reach their teen years because my bone go all brittle and arthritic. I am beside myself with worry that going through premature menopause will ravage my body and leave me with the lights flickering and nobody home.
Being on HRT at 38 already makes me feel like I'm standing on the shore waving goodbye to my youth. All my girlfriends are still on the ship sailing off with their bright minds, their dynamic thoughts and a body that can still be coaxed into shape. When I tried to search for information on what I was going through, I could never find a realistic picture of how other women cope. There was stuff written retrospectively by women who had been through it 7 years ago, but nothing on how they cope with the here and now, how they got through the terrible mood swings and trying to find which drug is best going to fit or do you just have to make do for infinity?
I have found my therapy and this is it. If it stays in my head, it rots, I rot, which means everyone around me rots. If I get it out, it's gone. Other people can have a small insight into what being me is like and what it takes to get through a day.
Keep running. Keep running.........
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
The 'C' Word
It hit me last week that I had been diagnosed with cancer.
Gone through surgery for cancer.
Radiology and chemotherapy for cancer.
Offered counselling services and makeover sessions all becasue I had cancer without actually digesting the fact that it was me who all this cancer was happening to.
I had seen Kylie with cancer, friends from home with cancer, the chick from Sass and Bide with cancer (who I secretly wanted to wear my headscarf like when all my hair fell out. Which it didn't. So I just had to put up with sparse eyebrows and my hair being a bit thicker on one side of my head than the other but certainly nowhere near being headscarf appropriate - just my luck!)
Blame it on my current HRT drugs, but this freaks me out!! (the late realisation, not the lack of headscarf action!)
So what made me finally realise?? Someone else's case of foot in mouth - which is so memorable simply because it wasn't me with verbal diahorrea for a change.
The Scene......
I was talking to a person in my office about a certain pain in the ar*e (don't ANYONE EVER ask me who either was - my lips are sealed). The other person was about to describe PIA (Pain In Ar*e) as the office cancer when they stopped, stumbled and used the word cataract instead!!
Internally, I p*ssed myself laughing!
Does that mean that everyone is now scared to use the 'c' word around me, just in case I take it personally??
I chimed in and referred to PIA as the office cancer as that's what they are. And not the glamour, 'on-trend' breast cancer that is the disease du jour (even Sam Newman has jumped on the bandwagon). No no! Office PIA is more like erectile dysfunction with a cancer thrown in for good measure!
I guess my point is to ask you, please...do 2 things for me:
1. don't let on that the City to Surf will just about kill me. I think I know that but just refuse to believe it. I read NOTHING about having babies before I did it. I read NOTHING about cancer treatment before I did it (seeing a trend here??) so figure that flying blind is a very good way for me to go.
and 2. never feel that I am too precious to just say what you want to say. Don't ever censor your thoughts, conversations or opinions around me.
I couldn't bear a homogonised life!
Gone through surgery for cancer.
Radiology and chemotherapy for cancer.
Offered counselling services and makeover sessions all becasue I had cancer without actually digesting the fact that it was me who all this cancer was happening to.
I had seen Kylie with cancer, friends from home with cancer, the chick from Sass and Bide with cancer (who I secretly wanted to wear my headscarf like when all my hair fell out. Which it didn't. So I just had to put up with sparse eyebrows and my hair being a bit thicker on one side of my head than the other but certainly nowhere near being headscarf appropriate - just my luck!)
Blame it on my current HRT drugs, but this freaks me out!! (the late realisation, not the lack of headscarf action!)
So what made me finally realise?? Someone else's case of foot in mouth - which is so memorable simply because it wasn't me with verbal diahorrea for a change.
The Scene......
I was talking to a person in my office about a certain pain in the ar*e (don't ANYONE EVER ask me who either was - my lips are sealed). The other person was about to describe PIA (Pain In Ar*e) as the office cancer when they stopped, stumbled and used the word cataract instead!!
Internally, I p*ssed myself laughing!
Does that mean that everyone is now scared to use the 'c' word around me, just in case I take it personally??
I chimed in and referred to PIA as the office cancer as that's what they are. And not the glamour, 'on-trend' breast cancer that is the disease du jour (even Sam Newman has jumped on the bandwagon). No no! Office PIA is more like erectile dysfunction with a cancer thrown in for good measure!
I guess my point is to ask you, please...do 2 things for me:
1. don't let on that the City to Surf will just about kill me. I think I know that but just refuse to believe it. I read NOTHING about having babies before I did it. I read NOTHING about cancer treatment before I did it (seeing a trend here??) so figure that flying blind is a very good way for me to go.
and 2. never feel that I am too precious to just say what you want to say. Don't ever censor your thoughts, conversations or opinions around me.
I couldn't bear a homogonised life!
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Personal Training 101
Have you ever had a moment in your life when you knew you were f*cked?
Not just in a bit of strife, but completely and overwhelmingly rooted beyond what you can ever handle?
No?
You might like to invest in a personal trainer then. After one short sharp session, you will surely know what this feeling is like!
So here's me, confident as Jack the Lad that just by sheer determination and a few good iPod songs in my ears that I can run for 14 km. Uphill. With 1000's of other people around me. And a TV crew at the end.
What a wanker!
Rob the friendly, smiling Kiwi trainer that Paul uses and who already knows I am a retarded runner because I think I'm Cathy Freeman says all the right things.
'You look athletic, what sport do you do?'
'It won't take much to get you back to the fitness level you had when you were younger.'
'I just want to take it easy with you and gradually build up your strength.'
What I didn't realise is that New-Zealandish is a foreign language because what he really meant was:
'Even though it looks easy you'll feel like throwing up and won't be able to walk for 3 days. Oh, and did I mention I can't count for shit. Just 5 more squats for me.'.....4........3........2.....3 more and we're done.
WHAT THE F#CK???!!!
Not just in a bit of strife, but completely and overwhelmingly rooted beyond what you can ever handle?
No?
You might like to invest in a personal trainer then. After one short sharp session, you will surely know what this feeling is like!
So here's me, confident as Jack the Lad that just by sheer determination and a few good iPod songs in my ears that I can run for 14 km. Uphill. With 1000's of other people around me. And a TV crew at the end.
What a wanker!
Rob the friendly, smiling Kiwi trainer that Paul uses and who already knows I am a retarded runner because I think I'm Cathy Freeman says all the right things.
'You look athletic, what sport do you do?'
'It won't take much to get you back to the fitness level you had when you were younger.'
'I just want to take it easy with you and gradually build up your strength.'
What I didn't realise is that New-Zealandish is a foreign language because what he really meant was:
'Even though it looks easy you'll feel like throwing up and won't be able to walk for 3 days. Oh, and did I mention I can't count for shit. Just 5 more squats for me.'.....4........3........2.....3 more and we're done.
WHAT THE F#CK???!!!
The Worse I Feel The Better I Am
Becasue there is no such thing as an original thought anymore, I have flogged this one from Lance Armstrong! It's true - the worse I feel, the better I get.
Going through chemo, I was so focussed on what was happening that day.
Tomorrow didn't matter as it was too far away.
I was too sick to try and make any plans so my only strategy was to focus on getting through my treatment for that day. At the end of each radiology treatment, I would congratulate myself on getting one step closer to 'the end' (of my treatment).
Even though it was so hard to get out of bed toward the end of chemo, it meant that I was getting to the end of it - this is what drove me to function each day, regardless of how crap I felt or that my brain kept telling me to stop, I knew that feeling this shit was a good thing. It meant I was near the end of it all.
My mindset was that once I had finished my treatment, I could then switch off that part of my life and seamlessly slip back into where I had left off.
You can all stop pissing yourselves laughing now!! I realise this is one of the most ridiculous things I have ever thought (and this from a woman who has spent her life perfecting 'The Next Stupid Thing'!!!)
As soon as I felt like the effects of chemo and radiology had worn off (3 weeks later), I shoved myself back into work. I still felt crap, was so knackered I couldn't talk properly and was the shittiest woman on the planet. My kids wore it. My husband wore it. I felt like I was sliding very quickly down the slope towards barking lunacy.
I couldn't figure it out.
I was OK now, I was cured. I was armed with a decent supply of HRT to cover over the cracks of menopause so why did I feel like shouting at random teenagers walking past about their dress sense and getting a haircut???I had no idea of how to process everything that had happened.
I was still stuck in a 'get thru today' mindset. I was shoving myself through the motions of a life and hoping that it would just click in and become automatic.I was fed up with the 'you're an inspiration' speech because I knew the reality.
So I started to run.
It hurt and I looked like a baby elephant finding its feet. In my body, I was running to lose all of the weight I had put on in chemo. In my mind I was running to get as far away from cancer as I could. If I got some distance between me and it, my mind would be a better place.
In my ears, I had Kanye West telling me that 'that that don't kill you can only make me stronger. Jarvis Cocker telling me that he wanted to live like common people and Sneaky Sound System going on about not wanting to be lonely. I ran further. I ran faster. I still looked like a small elephant. I still wished my arse didn't move as much.
And then the click came. I need to do something that makes me lift my head up and look further than today. The fact that it happened to be an invitation to run 14km from the city out to Bondi is a bit of a shit but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
I will not live to regret this decision and I am determined to run every step of the way.
Going through chemo, I was so focussed on what was happening that day.
Tomorrow didn't matter as it was too far away.
I was too sick to try and make any plans so my only strategy was to focus on getting through my treatment for that day. At the end of each radiology treatment, I would congratulate myself on getting one step closer to 'the end' (of my treatment).
Even though it was so hard to get out of bed toward the end of chemo, it meant that I was getting to the end of it - this is what drove me to function each day, regardless of how crap I felt or that my brain kept telling me to stop, I knew that feeling this shit was a good thing. It meant I was near the end of it all.
My mindset was that once I had finished my treatment, I could then switch off that part of my life and seamlessly slip back into where I had left off.
You can all stop pissing yourselves laughing now!! I realise this is one of the most ridiculous things I have ever thought (and this from a woman who has spent her life perfecting 'The Next Stupid Thing'!!!)
As soon as I felt like the effects of chemo and radiology had worn off (3 weeks later), I shoved myself back into work. I still felt crap, was so knackered I couldn't talk properly and was the shittiest woman on the planet. My kids wore it. My husband wore it. I felt like I was sliding very quickly down the slope towards barking lunacy.
I couldn't figure it out.
I was OK now, I was cured. I was armed with a decent supply of HRT to cover over the cracks of menopause so why did I feel like shouting at random teenagers walking past about their dress sense and getting a haircut???I had no idea of how to process everything that had happened.
I was still stuck in a 'get thru today' mindset. I was shoving myself through the motions of a life and hoping that it would just click in and become automatic.I was fed up with the 'you're an inspiration' speech because I knew the reality.
So I started to run.
It hurt and I looked like a baby elephant finding its feet. In my body, I was running to lose all of the weight I had put on in chemo. In my mind I was running to get as far away from cancer as I could. If I got some distance between me and it, my mind would be a better place.
In my ears, I had Kanye West telling me that 'that that don't kill you can only make me stronger. Jarvis Cocker telling me that he wanted to live like common people and Sneaky Sound System going on about not wanting to be lonely. I ran further. I ran faster. I still looked like a small elephant. I still wished my arse didn't move as much.
And then the click came. I need to do something that makes me lift my head up and look further than today. The fact that it happened to be an invitation to run 14km from the city out to Bondi is a bit of a shit but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
I will not live to regret this decision and I am determined to run every step of the way.
Running From Cancer - The Reason
One of the great philosophers of our time, Kanye West, once said,
Today marks 4 months since my last chemo session.
In 6 months time I am going to run in the City to Surf and intend to take all of you along for the ride!
You are all a part of the next stage of my therapy, seeing as I don't really do counselling, group therapy or bark munching so if you'd like to join in, sign up here!
You are not required to contribute anything in the way of answers, cures or money. You just need to believe that I will make 14km (including Heartbreak Hill) and that getting across the line in Bondi will mark my next great milestone.
If I can do this, it will mean that 2008 will be defined by how well I can do, not by when my next scan or check up is, not by how many days I am 'in remision' or the time since my treatment ended.
Strap in....it all starts here........
'and that that that that don't kill you can only make me stronger'.
Today marks 4 months since my last chemo session.
In 6 months time I am going to run in the City to Surf and intend to take all of you along for the ride!
You are all a part of the next stage of my therapy, seeing as I don't really do counselling, group therapy or bark munching so if you'd like to join in, sign up here!
You are not required to contribute anything in the way of answers, cures or money. You just need to believe that I will make 14km (including Heartbreak Hill) and that getting across the line in Bondi will mark my next great milestone.
If I can do this, it will mean that 2008 will be defined by how well I can do, not by when my next scan or check up is, not by how many days I am 'in remision' or the time since my treatment ended.
Strap in....it all starts here........
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