Sue's Sports Starter by Sue_Thearle

Hey fitness friends. How goes? All much better here as I am now a hardcore fitness warrior. Oh ho yes. No more Mrs chesty cough..... okay well actually I am still slightly Mrs rumbly hack, but not enough to stop me marching triumphant back into the gym. Yee har. I have been slightly kind to myself. I haven’t inflicted spinning on my aching limbs, simply because I think I genuinely would need hospital treatment if I attempted that. But I have done a couple of very sweaty cross trainer sessions which were hugely enjoyable. In fact I went slightly berserk today and after my 35 minutes gym session, I hurtled home and threw myself straight into another of the Fit In 5 To 20 Minutes DVD’s.

Today’s selection of choice was Belly Fat Blitz. Why, I hear you all cry with borderline disinterest? Well notwithstanding the fact that my baby/beer belly was strapped securely in place by my heavy duty lycra training bottoms, I felt like it needed some urgent attention after such a prolonged period of enforced inactivity. I was also mildly curious about what could possibly give me abs like Davina McCall (apart from her own exercise DVD of course). I must admit I had imagined an exercise mat and plenty of sit-ups, but I could not have been more wrong. Instead it was 15 minutes (you can do 5, 10, 15 mins or 20 mins if you so wish) of fairly non-stop boxing exercises. The slip of a thing who was in charge of this particular workout was kind and encouraging, notwithstanding the long, lingering shots of her ripped abs. But she delivered the routine at fairly breakneck speed.

I made sure I picked a quiet moment in the house when the kids were at school, so only my bewildered cat, who maintained a discreet yet inquisitive distance, was there to bear witness to my boxing shapes. To be brutally honest I am pleased I closed the front room curtains because I must have looked a right state. Hot, sweaty, uncoordinated and anything but light on my feet. I caught sight of myself in the mirror about 7 minutes into my workout and a beetroot heffalump returned my rather despondent gaze. Having said all of that, I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. I sort of wish I’d opted for 20 minutes now, although as ever, the key words in that sentence are ‘sort of’. So the highlights. Tons of punches thrown, including hooks and uppercuts (Amir Khan eat your heart out). But my arms now ache. A lot.

There’s bouncing and lunging, which is pretty brutal, oh and some squat swaying, which I think was my favourite bit. (You have to squat down, stick your bum out, sway a bit and throw punches, all at the same time. Marvellous). And my god did I get a sweat on. Which was nice, because the sweat from my 35 minute step routine had barely dried. So yes. There was a lot of sweat. But it felt really good I must admit. And I think I will do it again, tomorrow. The 20 minute version. Yes, I will… Apparently if I keep this up, I’ll soon be able to shout at random people; “Go on, punch me.” And then see their surprise as I brace my abs of iron and deflect the blow without a flinch.....I hasten to add that is my prediction, not a promise made by the DVD. Still it would be nice, wouldn’t it. Ho hum.

Right I am off to be fit and things. To be honest I have so much paperwork to do, I might ignore it all and opt for another home workout DVD. I am getting slightly addicted to them and let’s face it, it beats sitting on your arse and eating cake..... although hold on, hang on a minute, let’s not be too hasty here. Oh and speaking of cake, I shall be abandoning it all next week for the Dukan Diet. Oh yes. Dear god no. Oh arse. 

Hello campers. Happy Friday to all. I would love to bounce into this week's blog with tales of 15 fitness sessions and a 5 mile run. but alas, that would be an exaggeration. In fact I haven't seen the inside of a gym again for another week and my carefully ironed lycra outfits are still folded neatly in the cupboard. The reason is my continuing inability to shake off the lurgy. My rumbly cough has taken on epic proportions and my voice has actually disappeared several times this week, no doubt to the joy of my hubby and kids. I have been trying to work through the midst of it though on the telly, and I did manage to get through an evening of hosting an event for the Telegraph at the appropriately named Hospital Club in central London, before I lost my voice again the next day.

Happy days. Err not really. I am really missing the exercise I must admit and can't wait to get back in there, but at the moment it's just not possible. Pulls ludicrously sad face while carefully unwrapping a Belgian Bun. Having spent more time in bed this week since I have when I was a student, I have put my time to good use by doing a bit of swotting up on the Dukan Diet. I have been poring studiously over the book and listening to the views of a lot of people who have done it and swear by it, although they also admit to be utterly miserable while they were doing it.

They all talk about the rapid weight loss, and as someone who thinks they retain a bit of water, that is tempting. So I am pondering giving it a go, but if any of you out there have done it, I'd love to hear your views. Anyway to aid my recovery, I thought I'd cheer myself up with a spot of tennis this morning. Aaah, possibly not the best idea. It was less of a tennis match and more of a war between Murray and Djokovic, with a predictably inevitable outcome. Poor old Andy. A brilliant player, but destined never to win a grand slam methinks.

Ho and indeed hum. Right I am off to cough a lot and brace myself for the burning issue of the week in our house. No, not who will win the Australian Open (Nadal btw). But who is the best looking one in One Direction. My daughter is adamant it is Harry. I am countering with Liam. I'm telling you, the winter nights just fly by in our house.

Ola troops. Happy Friday and all that. Crikey what a week. It’s had the lot. Drama, pathos, triumph, glorious failure, oh and an emergency trip to the flaming dentist....but more on that later. On the sporting triumph front my daughter made the school swimming squad after her trial last week. Hurrah! Top girlie. Hilariously yours truly was roped into ‘helping’ at the trials. They sooo saw me coming. Would you mind just marshalling they enquired gently. No problem thought I. Honestly, how bad could it be? Well an hour later I had been broken by 50 screaming children and their parents. It was about 300 degrees in the pool, so I was purple, having taken the precaution of wearing two sweaters naturally.

My clipboard, yes I was given a clipboard, was drenched with water where I’d got too close to the edge of the pool or had been enveloped in a bear hug by children as they got out of the water. I was so busy marshalling that I didn’t actually get a chance to watch any of Holly’s races, although it would seem she did quite well. My son was there and I asked him how she’d done. “Don’t know,” he replied. “I wasn’t watching.” Deep, deep sigh. On the plus front I must have sweated off about 30 lbs, but overall I think it’s fair to say my marshalling days will henceforth be behind me.

On my own health and fitness front I have been struck down by a hideous lurgy (again) which has left a chesty cough and sensitive ears. I finished a spinning class at the start of the week with throbbing ears, and even though the music was loud, it was the first sign that all was not well in the world of Thearle. To add insult to serious injury I broke half a tooth on a Flake this week. Admittedly I had ‘borrowed’ it from Holly’s Xmas Selection Box, but even so, I’m not entirely sure the punishment fitted the crime. And by the way didn’t their slogan used to be; “Only the crumbliest, flakiest chocolate......”? Hmmm. It is proving to be a costly mistake, as I now have to have an onlay/inlay – oh I don’t know, a ‘something’ fitted.

But for a couple of days I have looked and sounded a bit like a poorly Nanny McPhee, with a rumbling chesty cough and a broken-toothed smile. All perfect for television of course.....As a result my fitness routine has flown out of the window and I have been forced to lie down on the bed a lot, which I must say I excel at. Sadly not burning many calories. The children have been brilliant, doing their best to look after poorly mummy. Having bathed the kids the other night I lay down while Holly read the bedtime story. She paused momentarily when I’d closed my eyes and poked me gently in the face; “Have you died mummy?” she enquired sympathetically. Well no – all still well here, ish. As I attempted a rather wan smile, she spotted my broken tooth and instantly demanded to know what had happened. Ahh, well, now, there is a story......

Okay my friends, let me put my cards straight on the table. Two spinning classes in three days - I think it’s safe to say that I am back on the fitness horse. The only trouble is I am actually walking like John Wayne. My legs hurt. A lot. And it was so hard core, I actually swallowed sick in my second class, as I pushed for the summit of our second 8-minute hill. Joy. Mind you, I can at least take some comfort from the fact that I am not alone in this sea of fitness pain. One of the mums at school said she had returned to a body pump class for the first time in 3 weeks and actually felt like she had the flu the next day – everything ached that much. I know that feeling.

Having said all that, I am feeling so much better; less lethargic and more energetic than I have in around a month, so I think it’s working. And I am also squeezing in the odd run on the running machine too. Nothing too frenzied, but last weekend I did a half hour step session and then a mile run, followed by about 200 sit ups. Admittedly I was in a state of near collapse at the end of it, but hey, it’s all money in the calorie-burning bank. Hubby has also been pounding the streets and predictably after about two runs is already looking like he is back at his fighting weight. Grrrr. Sometimes life is soooo not fair.

But we have both noticed the sudden increase of lycra-clad souls hurtling up and down the highways and byways. You can tell that Virgin London Marathon time is on its way. As always I felt a pang of regret that it wasn’t me, swiftly followed by another pang in my achilles, calf, knee and back. I think it’s for the best I'm not doing it again, she added hastily before having a sit down in a comfy chair. But in terms of other activities there has been no let up in the healthy regime here I can tell you. I also took the children swimming at the weekend. My daughter has a swimming trial this week and wanted to swim a few lengths to see if she could remember how to do it.

Bless her heart, she shot off like an exorcet on her first attempt and I’m not entirely sure if she actually breathed all the way down the 25 metres. I was running alongside her in the pool shouting words of gentle encouragement like “breathe!” I have no doubt she couldn’t hear any of it. But the look of excitement on her face as she gasped for air at the end, was worth its weight in gold. I'm not sure Rebecca Adlington has anything to worry about just yet, but I think it’s fair to say that the passion hubby and I have for sport is certainly rubbing off on the children. Holly is also doing hockey and netball club at school, while my son is doing tag rugby as well as football and tennis. I am chuffed to bits that they just enjoy it and that it’s helping them grow up fit and healthy.

It also means I get to relive my youth in the garden with my daughter. She has a new hockey stick, while I still have an antique that I used to play with. Oh but it’s seen some action. It really has. In fact, have I ever told you about the time I........hello. Hello? Is anybody there?