Let’s get physical

 Can you believe it’s been almost two years since the doom plague struck? So much for the ‘Roaring Twenties’ we all promised ourselves - it’s been more like the ‘Snoring Twenties’ with the amount of napping I’ve done over the last twenty-four months. It’s almost like I was trying to hibernate through the apocalypse.

That said, I think I’m going to end up as one of those smug, annoying people who, when this whole pandemic-thing is finally over, emerge from their cocoon of agoraphobia and self isolating even when they didn’t actually need to self isolate as a slightly better version of themselves.

And no, don’t think I’m one of *those* people who wrote sixteen novels, founded a charity and started a family during lockdown - I’m not that productive, though I did write a novel - rather, I actually started focusing on getting a bit fitter. Or hench, as I believe the kids say.

I’ll be honest, I spent the first three months of the first lockdown on the sofa with my feet up reading books (which is why my reading lists over the last two years have been insane), but then I got to the point where I looked at myself in the mirror one day and I didn’t approve of the extra chin or the spare tyre (it wasn’t quite that bad, dear reader; this is more of an artistic flourish to set the tone). Let’s not forget I was a chubby kid, and the spectre of that rotund little blonde boy from the 1980s haunts me to this day. So I set about doing something about it.

Obviously being a Bikram yoga teacher my first recourse was, well, yoga. And during the balmy summer months I thoroughly enjoyed a bit of back garden yoga in the sunshine. Plus, in tiny yoga shorts I ended up with a pretty delicious tan. In August of 2020, almost exactly eleven years since I did my first thirty day yoga challenge, I started another one. Thirty days of hot yoga - well, lukewarm yoga, given I couldn’t get the underfloor heating in the living room up to forty degrees. It was a lot of fun, and a little more challenging given I was teaching myself and the inclination is always to zip through the postures I don’t like. But I didn’t, and I did it. Gold star to me and a pat on the bum.

The thing with hot yoga in a not-hot environment is that I found I was focusing on, and building, strength more than flexibility, so at the end of my thirty day challenge I thought fuck it, let’s just try to get buff. I dug out the weights I’d bought when I moved into the first Sparky Towers back in 2006. Back then the intention was to do a weights session every evening and get, well, buff, but the reality was that I used them infrequently and basically left them unloved in the bottom of the wardrobe. But no more! Now they were back in action as I furiously pumped, if not iron, well, certainly tin.

But then I realised I needed to do more, driven slightly by all the fitness stuff on my Apple Watch, which was gently encouraging me to ‘close my rings’ (move, exercise and stand). The move ring was pretty easy to close as I could manually set it at a pretty low number and feel smug when I achieved it; stand was easy too as, y’know, I can stand. But exercise was proving a little trickier.

So I bought a rowing machine.

Back in the dim-distant past when I used to go to a gym, the rowing machine was about the only cardio thing I actually a) liked, and b) saw any benefit from. So I did a little research (basically found the cheapest one) and treated myself. 

I’ll be honest, the first few months I barely used it. It was like a once-a-week-thing. I’d sit on it, get some music blasting, and row for what seemed like an eternity only to find I’d managed a pitiful kilometre and my Apple Watch would say something like ‘well done Tim, you’re so close to closing your exercise ring’ when in fact the only thing I was close to was passing out. But then in January 2021 I went hell for leather. Suddenly I was rowing six kilometres each session, sometimes more. I added long walking workouts to my regime and the weights sessions started feeling … easier? I was building arms like tennis balls in a sports sock and abs like Jesus. 

Then the rowing machine control panel broke. That was annoying, but I got a replacement and somehow using my basic understanding of how to read instructions, managed to install it myself without losing a finger. 

Despite barely rowing in December due to work and the sheer mountain of sugary goodness Sparky Ma threw at me over Christmas, I ended the year feeling fitter and healthier than I have done in a long time. And my Apple Watch stats are bonkers compared to what they were just a little over a year ago.

Look at all those closed rings.

I’ve started 2022 with a renewed focus on fitness. Unfortunately, just eight minutes into a row yesterday morning there was a comical ‘boing’ sound and the rowing machine handles went slack. A swift email to the manufacturer revealed that the ‘coil’ has gone, probably as a result of wear and tear, but possibly because I’m now A MACHINE and my vigorous health regime is to blame. Funny, I thought a coil was something else, but apparently not. Anyway, I’ve got one coming and I’ve got to take the bloody thing apart to install it myself in the next few days. There will be swearing.  

Slack bitch.

In the meantime, I’m left wondering what I can do to keep my momentum going. Weights, obviously. Walking, for sure. Oh, and then a lovely yoga teacher friend asked me last night if I’d ever practiced my own class. Don’t be silly, I replied, I hate the sound of my own voice (surprising, eh?); but she insisted, saying I teach a good one, and sent me a link to a recording of an online class I taught. So, weirdly, I might have a bash at teaching myself.

And then this morning I got an email from Apple offering me a free month of Apple Fitness+. It’s almost like they knew… Anyway, I’ve always fancied trying one of their on-demand dance classes, so maybe now’s the time to turn up the music and throw it down to some phat beats.

 The things I do for cheekbones, arms and abs…