Hello

This blog is all about my thoughts, experiences and things I will find out about transforming your life after you hit 50. I don’t expect it to be easy, but it better be fun!!
Over the next weeks, I will share the good, the bad and the downright ugly bits of this journey, which will hopefully lead me to bucket list items such as triathlon and running very far.
These are major goals, I can tell you, considering the starting point is a mild shuffle between two lamp posts in the street before collapsing in a snivelling gasping heap. And I cant swim. Well, I can, but its head above water doggy paddle at best, and I hate water. And I haven’t been on a bike on the road since 1984, and when I got off it, my legs wouldn’t work and my nether regions were numb for a month. Apart from that, I reckon I’ll be really good at it.
To assist me in this journey to health and mind-blowingly stupid bucket list items, I have joined a local 9 week programme of group fitness, healthy eating advice and personal training. It’s fucking mad. There are all ages and all sizes in the group, and many are on their second or third program, because its so good. And it is. But I tell you, its fucking mad.
Boxing Monday, circuits Wednesday, hills Friday and a sport like soccer or hockey on Saturdays, plus a personal training session somewhere in the mix. For two Sundays in a row I have been unable to move off the couch, or wipe my arse without pain.
Places where I had no idea you had muscles are crying in anguish when I move, and some when I don’t move. The toilet seat appears to have lowered itself to a point where I am unable to gracefully place my buttocks thereon, instead having to drop from a great height, threatening to crash through the floor because there is only so far my quads (I learned that this week when they wouldn’t work – they’re the big ass muscles on front of your legs) will carry me down. My arms are mostly useless at feeding myself, and totally unable to hang out washing without hanging periodically from the line for a rest.
But, the strangest thing of all – I absolutely LOVE it.
The others in the group are really supportive, despite their functioning quads, and no doubt effortless toileting. And at the end of only three weeks of this torture – I am seeing and feeling a difference.
Last night I walked up a hill without stopping. I huffed and puffed and could not have blown a house down, but I kept putting one foot in front of the other, and I fucking made it.
And, I put on a pair of pants today that are normally tight, and they weren’t.
And, a big boss at work who has been off for a couple of weeks asked me if I had lost weight. I nearly crash tackled him for hugs.
I will fill you in on my previous history of exercise at a later date, but to cut a long story short- it normally ends in surgery. Dodgy knees.
This time, I have taken it easy, strengthened all up, and haven’t really run or done anything stupid – yet.
So another huge goal smashed, is that I am three weeks in and without injury. (Races around to touch wood many times).
I have also given up sugar, but that little nightmare deserves a post all to itself. In fact many posts. My children are sick listening to me about how much sugar is in this and that, and are thanking many Gods each day that they no longer live with me.
So welcome to Big Nangs bucket, which as you can see is full of cheap toilet jokes and foul language. Pretty much like my life.
Take care, talk soon,
BN.

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