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Author: Michael Snasdell

Published on Leave a comment on Bollox to it!

After deep thought and careful contemplation, the final outcome to my recent train of thought, is, "bollox to it".
A lot has gone on over recent weeks and months, health, personal life, work life, home etc. Lots to think over, loads to consider, and I have realised something. The more I rely on others, the more involvement others have on my day to day life, the more complex things become.

Right now, simplicity rules my life, having found a solitary existence, blocking out all sorts of external influences, and getting into my own solid routine was working well. Then came hospital appointments, changed priorities, and worst of all, a change in the routine I had found.

Training has slipped to one side, my creative mind has turned to absolute shit, and eating is terrible. All stuff three months ago which were high on my list of priorities. I have let myself become distracted, and have fallen victim to myself.

The worst part about the whole thing is my damn mind. Unable to let anything go, dwelling on random crap that just brings me down. Turning the slightest hiccup in to an almighty fuck up in a single heartbeat. If only my brain could just do what it did on meds, and just let shit slide once in a while, I'm sure I could be much happier.

My problem is free time, thinking time, dwelling time. If I stick to my plan and stay busy, my mind doesn't get a look in. The day flies by, spirits stay high, and negativity can just go do one. But having fallen from routine, I have these awkward gaps in my day and week which desperately need plugging. Its almost like a sanity leak.

The dilemma kills me time and time again. Boring but solid routine, or exciting but risky existence, with scope for dive bombing moments of disappointment, which can spiral into moments like this.
I trust routine, I crave routine, but maybe my routine needs a little freshening up. Nothing wrong with change here and there eh.

Right now though, I want to go to sleep this evening, wake on Monday morning with a huge cup full of motivation, a little luck on my side with my achillies, to allow me to get on with life, and slip back into routine. Chances of it happening like that are pretty damn slim, but hey, got to stay positive, right!

So many trains of thought all leaving the station together right now, tugging my heart and mind in so many directions, and it's confusing the hell out of me, wants, desires, ambitions, and inhibitions... Which way to go. Time to take the fall of faith, and just let myself drift into the path which wins me over I guess.

With all that out of my head, I am going to go and lay in bed and stare at the ceiling until my eyes can't stay open any longer. Then drift off into a state of broken sleep, filled with flashing images of the past, the future, and all that terrifies me. And you thought Halloween was a time of fiction and fun. Well, welcome to Halloween in my head! It's not pretty.

I bid you farewell for now, and remember... Bollox to it all !

Published on Leave a comment on Time marches on.

It's true, no matter what is going on in your life, what has happened, if you are paying attention or not, time waits for no man (yes, yes, or woman!).

It takes a glitch in the routine, a break from the norm to make you realise where you actually are right now. Like the monotonous daily commute, from time to time we look up and think "how the hell did I get here?" In reality we do that a lot, and think nothing of it.

However when something bigger happens, a change of job, a death, a break-up (well of course I was going to squeeze that one in somehow), once we get control of the spinning and pull out of the impending spiral of doom, suddenly it becomes apparent that things have changed around us.

This could be in many different ways, people, things, places. A bit vague maybe? Then I shall dig a little deeper.
For example, the people around us. There are those close to us, who we engage with daily. We know them well, and they form part of the structure of our daily routine. As simple as a shopkeeper, as important as a partner, they are all the fabric of our reality. Then there are those we tolerate. People we don't get much of a choice but to interact with, however wouldn't if we could help it. Co-workers are the main category here, although friends of friends can fall into this one quite often too.
Then there is "the rest". The background noise so to speak. We can come across the same people day in day out and never really pay any attention to them whatsoever. Or very little at best.

The crazy thing is, in times of confusion and need, all roles are reversed, and priorities change. In our routine, the background noise settles, and almost goes away, and we focus on the other two categories. But when routine is gone, all the noise returns.
An example if I may.
A busy underground station,  full of faceless people making their own noises, all adding up to a crushing bombardment of sound. On a good day, in good company, engrossed in conversation with the friend, the sound is barely there, we are cocooned in our safe, happy world. Take that person away, and add a simple niggling concern to your mind, and the platform is suddenly deafening. So much noise, hard to think, the mind goes into overdrive.

Thankfully, finding ourselves out in the wilderness of the outer circles of life, isn't too common, and in general we don't go through it too many times in life. Depending on what sort of person you are will no doubt dictate how you cope out there. Overthinkers beware! It's is a minefield packed with booby traps and potholes. That said, there is a way through, so don't panic. For most, it is a simple journey finding their way back into the security of what remains of the inner circles. Supported by our caring friends, normality returns quickly, and we are back on track.

All that said and done, there IS a point to this, so let me see if I can find it in the mess.
How can I put this without sounding too stupid. Who am I trying to kid, most of my blogs sound a little bit daft at the best of times.
We are like cogs, and to operate properly we need a certain amount of corresponding cogs to work with. Being like this gives us support, and allows us to support others at the same time (nice eh!). So when something changes, we need to ensure the cogs keep turning. For some of us we prioritise ourselves, and some of us focus on the others. Either way, the time we spend paying more attention to our surroundings is important. It gives us time to appreciate that its not all just background noise, and that some of it is good stuff. It's almost like an intake of new friends.
Be it, socialising more, and realising what people bring to the table, taking more time to talk, and appreciating just how much you have in common with others. Or sometimes that stark reality, that you were living a lie! Whatever it is, to coin a phrase "It's good to talk".

When we talk, we listen. Well that's the idea anyway. I seem to excel at talking, but listening is a weakness at times. In fact talking is important to me, it's almost like a release valve, getting all the excess pressure out of my head, and just out there. Doesn't need deep, intellectual conversation, just a sounding board to blurt it all out to once in a while. As you might have guessed, occasionally I use my blog for this purpose, and this could actually be one of those times.

Anyway.... When we listen, we engage, and connect with people, and this is the key to it all.
From time to time when these encounters happen, we realise we actually enjoy the interaction of a person, and wonder why it was so hard to have bothered with this before. Then, before you know it, they are part of the routine.

So I guess what I am trying to say, and I have to guess at this point as it has gone all over the place now... The point is, change isn't a bad thing. Yup, it's unsettling, sure it leaves us feeling lost and vulnerable at times. But the positive side is, it is like us having a review of our lives, and who we surround ourselves with. A short moment to take stock of what you have in life, and what you are missing from your life. And most of all, an opportunity to make changes for the better, and fill those gaps.

Maybe the opportunity will present, and you will shy away. Maybe you will try and make something out of nothing. Or maybe just for once you will throw caution to the wind, scream "FUCK IT" from the highest point you can find, and just take a chance for once.

However you have read this, please take great comfort in the knowledge that I have got all this off my chest, and somewhere in all those words, I have made sense of what is going on once more in my complex little head. Take a look outside once in a while.... It's really not so bad.

Published on Leave a comment on All a bit strange..

Just thought I would try and put into words how I am feeling right now, as I don't seem to be able to understand it myself at the moment.
Waking this morning, I slept OK, so got straight to business, and getting the dogs walked.
Build up to it was fine, then walking out the door, the first wave of thoughts and emotions. It's Sunday, I don't do the morning walks alone on a Sunday, but I guess I better get used to it, this is Day 1 of different.

Getting into my stride, I start doing my usual chatting to myself in my head, playing things out, replaying any events of the past day or two. Its what over thinkers do, its nothing new to me. But obviously this time there is a rather prominent topic, and so it begins. Acceptance of the situation, as I have said before, it's a shock but no real surprise to me. Then the memories, the realisation of the changes, and what will I say to other people. Not, will I tell the truth, but how will the conversation go, EXACTLY. Word for word. Another over thinkers trait.

All around the walk, the dogs do things, but there is no one to talk to, thoughts come into my mind, but again, I'm alone. Sure there are many caring people only a message away, but its not the same. It's not spontaneous.

By the end of the hour and a half of dog walks (takes twice as long as I'm...... yup, alone!) I get back to the house, and I would be lying if I didn't say there was a feeling of dread as I walked up the drive, no Mini. In the house, deadly silence. Coming into the house a huge wave of emotion smashes into me, thoughts as fast and frantic as the pages of a book as you flick through it. Memories, worries, and loneliness.

I feed the dogs, and unlike usually, I skip breakfast myself. A twisting gurgle feeling in my stomach, now is not the time for food.
Instead I come to my little space (scattered with memories of trips, and adventures shared), head down, ignoring the keepsakes, I log on to the PC. Having posted a few status updates on Facebook before heading out with the dogs, the replies and comments are plentiful, for which I am grateful. Everything from deep expressions of sorrow, to totally missing the point.  But it's only right to reply to them, and not seem like a recluse.

So I get started. Many comments tripping me up with emotions, unintentional triggers. Reflections of the past, surprise, and everything in between. A little light humour, a lot of gratitude, and a few ideas all thrown into the melting pot of thoughts. Meanwhile my IM is also pinging away, numerous conversations, again from all angles.
Now as the fury of messages and conversation grows, its getting too much. Too much to think about, decide, work out, plan..... My brain is melting.

Limiting myself to just a couple of conversations, I try and focus on what I need to do next, and work out what is happening immediately in front of me. Then logging off and hitting the streets. Walking once again, the mind goes wild all over again. Trying to keep my focus, shut out the negativity, and remember what is important. Friendship, staying in touch with my bestie, and knowing that while I have this almost overkill of activity and concern, she probably has the complete opposite right now.

As I finally get back home again, after a short unexpected trip to the shops, the doom greets me.

On the final few roads, it all starts to fall into place. That while we have been together for a long time, and I have almost stolen her youth away from her. I realise that I have realised for a long time that this day would come. Have even joked about it over the years, both with Chantal and others. But the realities don't dawn on you until it happens.
Our relationship has been unorthodox for a long time now. One if explained to others, they would just not get. But in all that, I have found my best friend, my companion, and someone who I can trust and rely on.
Or I had... And that's the bit really chewing at my heart right now. Put simply, I'm lonely... VERY VERY lonely, and it scares me so very much. Teeth clenched as I type this, throat tight, it is a horrible realisation, and one I simply don't want to get used to. I am surrounded by mates and a few good friends, but no one quite matches. I don't like this feeling one bit.
I know we will stay friends, I know I can rely on her for anything I need, someone to talk to etc. But that's the whole foundation of the situation. Dependency, on each other, has backed her into a corner which I simply can't justify trying to keep her in any longer.

So while I have nothing to fear, as I know help is so close by, I have EVERYTHING to fear, knowing that the only way we can stay friends and as close as we have grown, is if I give all of that up.

I'm sorry for putting my thoughts and personal life out there, and sharing things that possibly should remain between us, but I have to make sense of it all. I have to get the thoughts out of my head. Before they consume me.

I made a comment to someone earlier, that my head is like an all-in-one soup maker. And after shredding all my thoughts, destroying my mind, it sets about simmering them, bubbling away, cooking up something. Just sitting here waiting for it to churn out whatever the final outcome is.

I know I haven't said it much over years, but just want to throw this out there. Over 12 years, I have gone from spending time with a girl I hang out with, to learning to love someone so much, and fear any hurt or ill intent towards them. Secretly worrying all the time, and I guess you could say forming a synergy. Existing as one, even when far apart. There is a lot of emotional blurb coming to the surface right now, but I just need to be honest and say quite simply, I love you and I miss you SO much Chantal. Its been just over 12 hours, and already my mind is struggling with how things go on from here.

Of course we will be fine, it's not the end of the world. Its just quite simply, the end.

On the flip side to all this. I praise the courage it has taken to be honest about the whole situation, and reach this point. To be as mature and open about it as you have been, and for every gesture you have made since leaving last night. Of course I can say this all to you in private, but I want others to know how proud I am of the woman you have grown into. Strong, fierce, and now truly independent.

I could go on all day, this was only meant to be short, but that will do for now.
Sorry for rambling on so much, but it works for me.

5

Published on 5 Comments on So many thoughts trapped in my head.

You know me, when I can't get a thought out of my head, when it just keeps going round and round, it's to the blog I turn. Now is one of those times.

So I could beat around the bush, but lets get right to the crux of it... I just got dumped. After 12 years!
Now it's only fair that I am clear about this, and honest from the start. We have been together a long time, and there are NO bad feelings between us. But there comes a time when sometimes it's just best to go your separate ways. On this occasion, it is one of them.

The past week hasn't been a good one really. Obvious something was up, dreading asking because of the suspicion it would be just this conversation. So this evening I decided to pluck up the courage, et voila, there is was.

If I'm honest, I have probably expected this for years now. I haven't always been fantastic to be around, routine was becoming a bit obvious it was a chore, and lets face facts, what pretty girl in her late 20's wants to be stuck with a chubby broken guy in his 40's lol.

I'm just messing. We have had a fantastic time over the past 12 years, and she has truly been my rock through some dreadful times in my life. Caring for mum, putting up with my depression, and being there when I needed someone to rely on. So thank you for all the good times, and sharing the bad times.

Hopefully this mature approach (other than me putting it all over the internet within 20 mins of her leaving)  will protect the amazing friendship and bond we have built over the years. I know I am happy to stay as besties as long as its permitted, and hope the feeling is mutual.

So for all you mutual friends out there, no being mean, ya hear! There is no bad blood, nor will there be. So no sides need to be taken. If anyone does, I will take hers, and kick YOU to the kerb 🙂

However, and there is always a however in these blogs.... I'm left kinda wide open right now. Having not shed a tear in about 12-13 years, not being one for being overly emotional, dealing with things like this always catches me out somewhat. Heart racing, stomach churning, dry mouth, and a little confused, but no actual exit or show of emotion about the matter. Instead I will blog lots, toss and turn, and be mentally restless for however long it takes to "get over" the situation.

I in advance thank anyone who contacts me, offers to talk, lends an ear, or just sends their expression of sorrow about the matter. I appreciate it very much, and will reply asap, in usual fashion.

Right, I'm going to sit and sulk for a while now, I may be some time! Don't worry about me though, I'm not a fan of doing stupid things, other than publishing my life. So if I am quiet, I am probably just doing something on my own for a bit to catch some air.

So there you go, WOWZA I'm single! But don't have a bad feeling in me, so please don't either.

Published on Leave a comment on Allow me to introduce myself. (Edited)

Since writing this piece, I realised it was both rushed and full of holes, so have come back to edit it, and fill in a few gaps.
________________________________________________________________________________

I thought I would quickly write this, just as an introduction to me and my background. Following on from a fantastic, constructive conversation on Twitter recently, I thought it only fair that I show my true colours. So here goes.

I was born in Lewisham Hospital 14th Feb 1973, to a single mother. Becoming the youngest of 2 children. Growing up on Homecroft Road in Sydenham, it would be a lie to say things were rosy.
My father never played a part in my life, while knowing where we lived, and having the financial means to make life a lot easier, I believe it was his choice not to contribute. The separation and divorce was finalised prior to this anyway, so a live in dad was never on the cards. Choosing to spend his life with his new wife, and later on his son. Meeting him just the once that I recall, on a train heading into town, along with my sister. The destination was my nan's house. Again, I have very little recollection of the day, other than remembering I was not happy at all, it was not all I had ever dreamed of. Awkward and upsetting, and cemented my opinions of him. And also fixed in my mind that I would never do what he had done.

Mum did her best to provide for us, but with things like toasted burger buns with tomato ketchup as a meal, times were hard. On a good month, money would be squirrelled away, and a roast chicken would be the prise dinner of the month, on a Sunday of course. I would say all the trimmings, but a tin of carrots and a couple of potatoes was about all that went with it. We didn't starve, not for one second, but then free school dinners and milk etc were a real life line back then. I remember mum coming to see the teachers at school and telling them if I didn't want to eat, let me go hungry. I soon learned!
Obviously in the late 70's schools were quite strict, and there was no play time without eating something first. Needless to say I spent a lot of time in the dinner hall, and little time running about. Consequently I became the chubby kid in class. Asthma was diagnosed quite early on in one of my many trips to hospital and the doctors, and weight would blight me for years to come.

Other little gems during early years are below.

  • Being knocked down by a car, getting small head and foot injuries at the age of 3. I escaped by running out the side gate to cross the road to show everyone my new plaster... Ended up with more than a plaster.
  • Being hit by another car years later, getting up and running away telling the driver I was fine (I was)
  • Numerous broken wrists through being a little boy, slipping on ice, falling off a bike. The last one I hid for 2 days because I didn't want my mum getting mad at me. Eventually the pain and swelling became too much.
  • Punching my hand through a window, accidentally of course, as my sister shut the window to stop me getting in, I just didn't manage to stop in time.
  • Snapping a pencil lead off in my thumb and having it dug out with a needle at the hospital.
  • Oh, not forgetting having a ruptured testicle due to them twisting (just thought I would throw that one in there)

The list above is just what springs to mind at this precise moment, believe me there are plenty more little gems from those days. Needless to day, Sister Bell at Sydenham Childrens Hospital got to know me very well, to the point where she would fill out all my admission information without asking a question.

As hard as mum tried, there was always a balance to be found in anything we could do. Not being particularly outwardly social herself due to deafness, activities were based on this not being an issue, along with sporting a slipped disc, leaving her in considerable pain at times. But we always came first and she tried very hard to give us what we needed.

Occasionally when mum's back got really bad we would be looked after by social services. Sometimes in house, other times staying with families. Never for a long period that I recall, and living with another family for a few days wasn't so bad. At that age it felt like just some more friends. Then there was the live in care, can't say for one second that was a good time at all.One name springs to mind, Millie, and one smell, burning ironing. That's about my recollection of the misery of that, other than feeling very sad a lot of the time.

Television, toys, and fancy clothes were all just a dream. However with careful spending of the ILEA vouchers issued to get us school uniforms, sometimes there would be enough for some jeans to last the year. Bring a toy to school day at the end of term was always a little depressing, with all the other kids coming in with nice new toys just for that day, and me, well.... Occasionally I would have something, but as kids we shared, so I was never left out. All I can remember about those times is some weird helicopter game, where you changed the height to avoid obstacles and pick up magnetic objects. Don't ask me!!

Troubled at school for being the overweight, asthmatic, who wore old tatty clothes. Questioned if I was living with my nan, because mum looked older than the rest of the mums, having had me at 35. But as I grew older and stronger shall we say, I learned not to get too upset by the other kids comments, and made some great friends at primary school. Paul Jefferies, Joseph Ford, Simon Davies and Richard Frith were the lads I knocked about with when I could. Happy days had arrived.

None the less, looking back I had a positive childhood and learned much about the difference between need and want. Material objects have their place, but are no immediate priority.

When I reached 8 we moved to Forest Hill, where I still live today.
Moving here was a change of life, lots more kids, loads of influences, pressures and things to get involved in. As I reached my teens, staying out all night, running amok, getting known by the police, encouraging a chase from them, it was just the done thing. However I managed to stay out of trouble for most of the time.
Avoiding the temptations of cigarettes, drugs and alcohol, I was one of the few kids from my generation, in fact I am tempted to say the only one, who avoided all of them. The pressure was there, but my interest wasn't.
Growing up on the street I would have to say David Maloney was my best friend, spending a lot of our younger years kicking about together, sharing trips into London to wander around Hamleys and St Pauls. Getting a Red Bus Rover ticket and spending the day travelling around on buses, seeing the sights, having a little adventure. There is a funny story to tell regarding one of these trips, but I will allow David some dignity lol.

As we reached secondary school, I went off to Malory miles away, shunning the opportunity to have scholarships to a couple of private schools. Meanwhile most others went to the local Forest Hill Boys school. The upside to going to a school miles away was, along with the free school dinners I still received, I also now got a term time free bus pass, making those Red Bus Rover trips even cheaper. However I would be lying if I said secondary school was a fantastic adventure. Sure we had some great times, but with sports becoming harder and harder, with asthma and allergies causing all sorts of problems, the weight piled on, and obviously, being secondary school, the name calling started.

Now I was not bullied at school, that just isn't the case, but I was the butt of a fair few jokes, earning nicknames etc, which made bad days harder. None the less, when push came to shove I would always stand my ground, and stand for what I believed in. A quality which has stuck with me for life.
There isn't much more to say about school, other than pretty much a straight A student, always released from class detentions as I was seen as non disruptive, and felt like I got on well with most of the kids and teachers. Only ended up in the heads office the once, and that was thanks to Mario Cameron being wound up, and me ending up with a split lip.

Unfortunately, on reaching the year of my exams, I decided I knew better, started hanging around with some slightly older people, and ducked out of school a few months before my exams. So here I am now, not one academic qualification to my name.
That same year, I also decided it was a good time, now approaching a responsible age, to get arrested and charged with an offence. Court came and went, bed advice from a solicitor, so here I am today, with a criminal record. Albeit dissolved by the Rehabilitation of Offenders Act, but still present enough to affect my direction in life at times. My application to work in the Met stonewalled at the final leg by the record. The years after that are just a bit of a blur, with nothing amazing happening, other than getting my first job just before I turned 16, being made redundant by the time I was 16 and a half, and falling into the folds of Sainsburys, where I would remain for 6 years. Great times there.

As I grew older and watched the younger generation in my area making the same decisions, following the same paths as some of the more troublesome kids I grew up with, I made the effort to spend time with them, chatting with them on the same wall I grew up sitting out on til the small hours. Looking at most of them now, calmed down, families of their own, working hard, and making something of their lives, the small reward of time spent with them is great.

Reaching my twenties, the birth of my daughter was a wake up call, and also a very painful time in my life. From finally understanding what responsibility was, caring for someone so precious, through to having that ripped away from me, out of my control. From separation, through sharing custody , to losing all contact with my daughter, my twenties were a painful life lesson. Not something I would wish on anyone.

For the next however many years, I have always tried to do the right thing, from getting involved in the neighbourhood, helping people in need where chance arises. Caring for my mum in  her  4 year battle with cancer was tough for sure. From the first day of her saying she found the lump, but didn't want any treatment, through the appointments for diagnosis, treatments and surgery, all seemed necessary at the time, but took their toll. Only realising how bad a state I was in towards the end of her life.
Fighting severe depression for the last 18 months of mums life was a tough one. Trying to find the balance between a normal life, watching someone you know and are now living with slowly slip away from you. Never nice, and I have huge respect for all the people caring for loved ones in their families with life long or terminal conditions. No pity required, its just life really, but it's not been easy or uninvolved for sure.

I think if you checked the log of calls to 999 over the years, there will be dozens from me. Not just nosey neighbour stuff. Quite a few active involvements in the arrests of drunk drivers, one particular one being the sister of a well know violent family. After appearing in court, I was really not the favourite for quite some time.
Foot chase with a gun man, a 20 min conversation and eventual talk down of a self harming man intent on taking his life as he walked up my road. Thankfully most of his cuts were superficial. A number of serious RTA's, helping treat and calm casualties. When I look back I can honestly say one thing, I am not afraid to get involved when the opportunity arises. Never thinking twice about getting stuck in to whatever was needed in the moment.

I would like to think that as the years have gone by, any signs of my upbringing, and bitterness about coming from such a poor background, have dissolved away. Leaving behind a strong willed, open minded, straight talking, responsible adult man. Of course, this isn't obvious to all.

Hope this has been an interesting and informative read.

One final thought.
Its sadly ironic that the reason for writing this whole thing, opening up and spilling more info about me on the internet, is because of an exchange with someone who while they talk of the positive work they do to help better communities, and give people a chance, judges, calls names, and mocks someone they know nothing about. All because our opinions differ.

I have made this entry, as with all my other blogs over the years, to put information on me out there on the internet. Call it attention seeking, or an open book. Whatever you call it, finding information on me and my life online is not hard to do, and I am quite happy for people to do so for whatever purpose they see fit.
All I would ask is, if you don't have all the information to make a genuine balanced judgement on me, just ask. I have no secrets, but can't stand when people assume, make up stories, or just get carried away with what the reality of me really is.

Published on Leave a comment on Back on the wagon.

After two weeks of feeling rough as old boots, and not being able to train. Not to mention a couple of weeks before that of having a non stop sore throat, which resulted in me finally losing my voice a couple of weeks ago, I am back.

Not 100%, but breathing well enough, and fighting hard enough to get back into training. I can't pretend the last two weeks have been good, that would be a lie. Instead its been two weeks of NO training, severely decreased dog walks, with some days only managing about 3,000 steps rather than my average 18,000, and a whole heap of unhealthy eating.

The outcome, I have LOST 2lbs approx from my last weigh in, and am now balancing on the edge of 240lbs. So the next goal now has to be officially set, and here it is. 234lbs. Not far away, not unrealistic, but a good number, and ever closer to the end goal.

So I started training again on Monday, and took a rest day on Tuesday as I was suffering from the first day back. Dropping the weight, reps and sets to a realistic return number, its actually been quite refreshing to start over. Remembering form is key, and weight is secondary. A good clean session with mid range weights on Monday took its toll on Tuesday (hence the rest). Quads, pecs and tris all suffering a little, but in a good way. However, first week back, I didn't like to push too hard.

So the training ethos of this week is keep the weights down, and keep the form up. With the fresh start I want to avoid ramping the weight up too much too fast again. After all im aiming for more definition and NO more bulk. Clothes are a pain in the arse to buy as it is, so i don't want to make things worse.

With a healthy goal of 234lbs in my sights, and a new beginning, hopefully I can get there in the coming month. Lets see what April brings. Another good reason to keep the weight down and reps up is of course to avoid muscle gains, and promote fat burning. But like I say, lets see where we are in 3-4 weeks time. 6 or so pounds to shift in that time should be pretty routine if I can keep the intake clean enough.

Published on Leave a comment on My legacy

As a deep thinker, an over thinker, and someone who obsesses about some very strange things at times, I have come to realise that one thing bugs me over and over. My legacy!

I recently blogged about dying, cheerful I know, but it was on my mind, so I put it out there. In that piece I questioned what it was all about. Is death to be feared, or lived for? When we are gone, what is left, and what difference does our passing make to everyone else.

Having lost quite a few friends over the years, as well as some good acquaintances, its quite easy for me to make this next observation. Some people I have known who have died rarely ever cross my mind. Other however come into my thoughts on an almost daily basis. Not as sadness, but as memories of times gone by, thinking how a certain person would have liked whatever it is I'm doing at that moment, or just missing them for a moment.

In reality, I'm sure we all strive to be the latter. I know I do. I think I actually fear just being forgotten. I know I have shared some very special moments with some amazing people, and hope already that I have left my mark in life, at least in my own generation. I hope that I have done enough in life to generate a huge amount of 'do you remember when we' type conversations, as I have done about friends who have passed.

But there is a bone of contention in there, and one that doesn't sit well with me. My true legacy.
I am 42 years old now, far from old, but certain opportunities in life have reached a point of no return now. Choosing to have a child now, the primeval instinct of the human race, is quite a stretch in my world now, and not a choice I would make. Like a woman with her biological clock ticking away, I share that feeling of a door closing.
Of course, I have a child, or should I say, I fathered a child who is now a 20 year old woman.

It doesn't get to me too often, not something that I dwell on too much. I know in the years I have been absent she has been well looked after and loved. Raised well, and strives to make great academic achievements. I would say I'm really proud, but then that is a little glory grabbing really as its none of my doing.
Or is it? On a gross and scientific level, I do have something to be proud of. My genes after all went into her genetic makeup, she is 50% me, and while one part of the biological equation seems to have forgotten I am quite intelligent, thankfully her brain hasn't, and a part of me is indeed responsible for her success.

The truth is, my legacy as it stands is in 2 very separate pieces.
On the one hand, another generation has a life, will out live me, and a bloodline will continue. Regardless of my role and presence in the past 16 years, without me, there would be no her. Someone else maybe, but not her. Regardless of our interactions in years to come, her wishes to know me or involve me, she is my legacy. Like it or not.

Then the second part is the lives I have shared. The memories of the people I hold dearest to me, and who I have shared moments of happiness, sadness and of course stupidity with. A part of my life I have full control over, decisions I have made, and futures I have shaped. I hope I have done enough in those peoples lives to be remembered until their final days too, and for the stories of our adventures together to be told for decades to come.

Do you strive for a legacy? Or just take each day as it comes, and not care about what happens when you are gone?

Published on Leave a comment on Its Friday and I’m bummed!

Almost at the end of week 4 of training now, and like every Friday its weigh in day for me. Not a normal morning for me, slightly ahead of schedule in all aspects of the day, but weigh in done all the same. For the first time in the 4 weeks of training my weight has INCREASED!  Now that's not a terrible thing as its only half a pound, back to 247.4, but as far as motivation goes, that really has bummed me out for a bit.

Now, first up some read 247 and think, wow, hey fatty boom boom, and all that. Think what you may, at my most stripped down ever I was a notch under 200, and in fighting fit form I was 220. Reality is 220-230 is a happy place for me. Im hardly a small frame, and with 26-27" thighs, I'm never gonna be my BMI goal weight lol. But thats OK I can live with that just fine.
Truth be told, to get down to 230 in the coming couple of months would be nice, to be 220 and a fair bit leaner by summer would be lovely. So lets see how that works out shall we.
Training wise, in the past 4 weeks I have not missed a single session, however have missed one or two of the dog walks because of heavy rain. This morning I just bit the bullet and went for it, the floors have paid the ultimate price. Covering approx 60 miles a week at the moment with dog walks, so getting the heart working regularly. Home gym sessions I have varied a bit, but am sticking with a few core muscle groups, and seeing nice changes. I would love to be cocky and say the half pound weight gain could be down to that, but I fear I might be getting a little bit ahead of myself there. We shall see.
Diet wise, stripped down, pretty balanced without getting too fussy about it. Fruit and veg in abundance, complimented by noodles and rice, and a healthy heap of protein from chicken and fish. No cheats, unless you count breakfast cereal in the morning. Tomorrow however IS cheat day, and I will be celebrating big with some chips and maybe some chocolate! Wooooo !
Right, fresh in from the dog walks, changed and ready to go, I just wrote this to cheer myself up a bit about the gain before getting stuck into the morning session... So here I go. 
Happy Friday all!

Published on Leave a comment on Week 4 in the big boys house

Well, I am into week 4 of the new training regime now, and have to say 'I'm Loving it'. That's not to say that I'm spending every day in McDonalds, unlike some people I could mention. *tut tut*

There is something satisfying about being in control of your own destiny, something empowering, and a strange sense of motivation. Seeing as you set the plan for yourself, it would be wrong to then whimp out on following through with it. From the adjusted food intake, to the steadily increasing exercise regime. Being in control is something I love.

From Day 1 of this new self inflicted program I have tried to stay on track to my actual goals. The goals being fitness, firmness, and health. I'm trying to not get sucked in by the whole thing, and become the usual runaway train with weight. Pushing harder and harder til I cause myself an injury. That's always been my problem, and probably always will be.

Once the bug bites, I commit, fully, sometimes a little too fully. Concentrating on certain body parts, and neglecting others. Chest, biceps and triceps get all the attention usually, with stomach, legs, and back all being left out. But this time is different, this time I am trying routines to cover all the bases, and get an over all pump on a daily basis.

Each week for the past few weeks, I have logged my activities and times. Keeping a record of what is pushing it too far, and what could be worked harder. Needless to say, the above primary groups are really taking a beating as you would expect, with the weight increasing quite rapidly. But this time I am also making sure that I don't go easy on the others.

This week, looking back over the past few weeks, and taking into account the notes of where I have struggled, I have mixed my routine up just a little. Following a 6 day a week AM and PM routine until now, complimented by 3 times a day dog walks. For this week I have gone for an alternating PM routine, hitting different muscle groups on alternating days. There is a lot more fine tuning to do, but I had noticed that towards the end of the week I was flailing a little with arms, and neglecting my shoulders almost entirely.

Mornings consist of varied styles push-ups, sit-up again in varied styles, weighted squats with a synergistic movement to keep it interesting (I hate legs), and my old nemesis, dips. All increasing in set count each week. While I say I hate legs, I hardly struggle with strength or definition in them. My thighs and calves are pretty huge for a muscle group that I never train. 27-28" thighs last time I measured, the waist of a petite girl and then some. Not much in the way of excess on them either. Calves around 16-17", again no excess. I know I should still train them, but its such a boring routine for me, and I try hard not to tweak my ageing knees too, as that would end everything.
Remembering of course achillies tendonapathy still messes with me too, the 8-10 miles a day I walk with the dogs leaves my legs close to the edge.

So at this point, a day into Week 4 I can honestly say I'm pumped. Feeling great about the plan, feeling great from the effects of it. Loving my new food intake, and starting slowly to see the changes occurring. I forgot how rewarding the feeling of the post training pump was. Feeling all swollen and with tense muscles, showing a little definition, and putting on a t-shirt which stretches over all the bulging bits. The bits that bulge for the right reason, not the other bits.

I am already planning Week 5, excited mix it up a bit, and see where I can find myself by Week 10. However keen not to push myself too much. With the two workouts a day giving a nice split in the day, and making sure there are no excuses to say 'I don't have time today'. 30-40 mins, twice a day, and I am in my zone. So while I want to push a little harder, I want to make sure the time frames don't shift too much. I'm sure I will work it out somehow.

Now to add some spice and interest into it, to keep the drive alive.

Motivated by outside parties, I guess I rely on that a little when trying to dig that little bit deeper, strangely driven to impress others who I don't even see. How the hell does that work? I don't know, but it does, so its all good. And of course Spotify, my access to thousands of tracks which inspire and drive my mind when stamina is low.

So that's me, all checked in, and happy with how things are.

Published on Leave a comment on Song to match moments

I'm sure everyone has a song, or 'their jam' that invokes strong emotional feeling, for others there is a whole catalogue of music which fits almost their whole life story. The song that was playing the first time you met, the first dance, or indeed a song which sums up a persons whole existence in one go.
There is music which I am very passionate about, and certain pieces can really touch my soul and take me to a place only I seem to know. Ludovico Einaudi wrote one such piece. Shortly after hearing it, and realising its power to me, it appeared in an advert, which ever so slightly diluted its power. But it still stays with me today as a truly passionate piece.

For others, me included in this, the moment is the important part. The song can be the cheesiest song ever, but the memory it relates to totally trumps the poor quality of the song, and it too becomes a powerful mental stimulant for people.

Then there are the other ones. Easy to understand why they provoke emotions, its the lyrics. From time to time, the release of a track, and the arrival of a moment or person in your life go hand in hand. Hard to comprehend how it happens, the moment is so profound that you ignore the fact the track was playing for 3 weeks before it happened, and suddenly it was fate which brought the two moments in sync with each other.

Powerful lyrics can make you feel empowered. The great feeling to know someone wrote a song relating to your exact situation, and somehow it seals the deal that this is for real. Doesn't have to be love, or sex. Can simply be a track describing freedom, a clean start or a fight against oppression. But somehow the connection is made, and the feeling gets stronger and stronger.

For me, I get almost obsessed with a track, and can listen to it over and over and over. My track of the moment out of interest is David Guetta, Dangerous. Without too much depth to the lyrics, but the message of not understanding a situation, yet plunging into it, is really quite profound and fitting. For me as a whole really, as its something I do far too easily, and far too often.

There are a few other tracks which strike a chord with me recently too, but without a doubt this one is THE one of the moment. I wouldn't go as far as to say its particularly emotional for me. More motivational and ironic. But I like it all the same. Listening to it somehow gives me energy, and usually I'm smiling listening to it.
Another favourite of mine is Butterfly by Crazy Town. Maybe a little more of a deep track for me, but for its style of music, a well written and profound song all the same. Many messages within it, some of which I relate to well.

I have to say that it has taken me tears to realise how powerful music is to me, but now I know, when I look back over younger years, the penny drops and I realise how much I have used music to strengthen or break moods, as well as reflect my feelings at a particular time.

So how about you.... What are your songs?