Episode Five – Little Victories
Finally! After weeks of furious pedalling and scoring null points on the weight-loss-o-meter
I’m starting to see some results. Small ones, it’s true, but at this point I’ll take
any encouragement I can. Friends have been assuring me that, as I have such a lot
of weight to lose, it’ll pour off me to begin with. I should be prepared for the
slow-down after the inevitable initial dramatic loss, they say. So I’d like to take
the opportunity here and now to say to them all…, you’re total liars, each and every
one of you. In the first two months I hadn’t lost a single ounce (for you youngsters
out there, that’s a prehistoric unit of measurement that was used to weigh very small
dinosaurs). I was going through all that pain for no visible gain. And most of I
was getting really sick of hearing well-meaning people tell me not to worry because
“muscle weighs more that fat”.
Then something miraculous happened; I lost two whole pounds. I have no idea where
they went. Perhaps, like my homework all those years ago, the dog ate them. Or maybe
I left them on the bus. Maybe they fell down the back of the sofa. Or was it that
my scales were faulty? But no; a few days later another two somehow managed to seep
through my skin and clothes, hopefully never to be seen again. I appreciate that
in real terms this small drop in mass is nothing, about the equivalent cutting my
hair when it gets to Brian May fright-wig proportions, but to me it’s a significant
turn of events. Not great, but I’ll take it after going nowhere previously.
Well, I say I’ve been going nowhere, and that might be true if we stick strictly
to the facts, as my huge static no-wheeler is still sitting hugely and statically
in my dining room, but the readout screen says that the kilometres have been flying
by. In the two months that it’s been a part of my life, my cycle and I have travelled
a virtual 500km from my home in the North of England. That’s as far as Eindhoven,
if we were measuring in straight lines, and if we ignored that rather large inconvenient
stretch of cold, rough water in the middle. Actually I was pretty convinced that
I’d cycled further than that. My legs certainly feel as though I’ve been to Mongolia
and back at least. Perhaps my partner’s turning the clock back while I’m asleep as
punishment for my singing (see FBD 4 for the whole sordid story).
The bike has ‘downhill’, ‘flat’ and ‘uphill’ modes, and I’ve been slowly edging it
up a steeper hypothetical incline. As an experiment I knocked it back down to its
flattest level the other day, just to compare how I feel now with how I did when
I first began. To my delight, I sailed along at this lower setting with relative
ease, so things must be improving. My legs are certainly leaner and more solid. They
sometimes – though not very often, I’ll admit - feel as though they can keep going
forever. I just wish I could say the same for my breathing though. I’m still getting
winded far too easily, wheezing like a set of bagpipes with a slow leak.
But my lung capacity has certainly increased. I can tell that it has because I can
now gulp down huge amounts of air when I get to the gasping-but-pushing-myself-anyway
section of my training, the point where the trickles of sweat become rivers. I’ll
not tell you where they flow to, but let’s just say that it isn’t the Atlantic. However,
I still reach that unwanted exhausted stage far too quickly. I suspect it’s due to
the huge weight that I’m still carrying around my middle. It’s steadfastly hanging
around, like the bad smell in my dining room after a particular long session on the
bike.
I’m not too sure if last week’s short break was beneficial or not. We had a long
weekend at the eco-warrior’s Butlins, Center Parcs. It was a beautiful location,
and my partner and our friends made for excellent company, but being away from the
familiar routine of my exercise regimen has been surprisingly difficult. A few gentle
walks were all that we managed. Which is why I’m doubly pleased that I lost a few
more pounds while I was away. Perhaps it was the running away from the rabid squirrels
that were intent on stealing my peanuts that did it?
I ended episode one of the Diaries with the words “As of today, I am an exerciser”.
Now I can add to that. I stepped on the scales today and they miraculously said that
my weight was down a whole ten pounds from my starting point. I never thought this
would happen, but I can proudly claim that, as of today I’m not only an exerciser,
I am a loser!
© 2008 Shaun Finnie