I DID IT!!! I DID IT!!! I BLOODY WELL DID IT!!!

"What did you do?" you may rightly ask. I DID 10 BLOODY CHIN UPS, ALL IN A ROW!!!!! WOOT WOOT WOOT WOOT!!!!!!!

And I discovered something about myself that I've always suspected. I am prone to having a touch of tourettes when attempting to conquer a high intensity challenge. For those non-familiar with such a syndrome, it leads me, beyond my control, to suffer a short but sharp outburst of anti-social language at the completion of something intense. In all honesty, giving in to the pressure to swear feels really good. Like a cigarette used to taste when having my first cold glass of wine on a Friday afternoon. I realise that it's particularly un-ladylike but heck schmeck, I've always been honest and today shall be no exception.

My suspicions were first aroused to this in 1998, when I sat my first police fitness test in New Zealand. The physical test comprised of a 2.4km run, to be completed in 11.15m (10.15m for the guys - regardless of age), followed by 20 continuous pressups, a vertical leap, a grip test and a couple of others that I can't remember. Success in these exercises meant you had a half hour break before completing a fairly gruelling obstacle course which included; pushing a trailer, running with a tyre assembly, jumping (god knows why!!) through a window, scaling a 1.8m flat wall, sprinting, some silly slalem cones, pulling a ruddy heavy 'body' (stuffed body-sized bag), and manouvering over a 10ft hurricane wire fence.

To back up the truck a little, once-upon-a-time inn 1998, I was at a rockin good wedding party, and I was a little...shall we say...under the weather. I weighed ..... too much, drank..... too much, smoked... too much and didn't really have my sights set on anything much at all. In short, I threw myself at pretty much nothing and achieved it beautifully each and every day.

So, at this party I met one of the police bosses for that district and he dared, and then double-dared, me to try out for the Police. Now, I couldn't actually even see straight at the time but, between drags on the ciggie, I tried really hard to focus on what he was saying, and somewhere along the way, my eyes changed colour (something they do when I get perturbed) and I tried to figure out whether he was serious or seriously taking the piss out of me. Because, seriously, I didn't look the least bit like cop-material! Especially around the diff!!

But somehow that comment wouldn't leave me alone, and later that night when I devoured a hot cheese and onion toasted sandwich, I was still thinking about his words. The following Monday I, very self-consciously, phoned police recruiting and got the info I needed. They didn't really go into any other detail than what the physical test consisted of. Excited??? NOT!!! I'd never run before in my life and never saw the need to jump through windows, push trailers or scale walls!!

So I had another fag and thought it all through. Never one to admit defeat I wandered along to the local gym and spoke with a personal trainer. I still vividly remember him. Masoud Sadari. He was middle eastern and looked a lot like Borat. He reckoned, with the cockiness that only a PT can muster, that he could get me over the line, not a worry at all. I reckoned the $35 per session would be well earned by him.

From there I started seeing my obssessive side poking it's head out. I had a date for the test worked out and about.....ooooo......8 weeks to get my butt moving!! (I don't like long term goals - much prefer the quick fix!!). So I started planning my life around this new training regime. And I have to say - it hurt like hell!!! That little trainer (he was about 5ft nothing) would actually lie down in the middle of the grass 400mt oval and have the audacity to loudly yawn if he thought I was going a little slow!!! I would literally seeth with fury at him and imagine building enough upper body strength to knock his little head in! I think the passion I had to hurt him really helped me with my training actually. So once a week he would have me run that bloody track six times around to check on my time. The first time it was about 23 minutes and I felt shattered. Drastic action had to be taken.

So I started racing up to the gym in my one hour lunch break. I'd have a sneaky smoke in my car on the way there, set the treadmill as high as I could handle, shove in earplugs and listen to Oprah Winfrey while I smashed my legs as fast as they would go - which really wasn't fast at all!! I was completely happy if I managed to get the 2.4km done in under 23m.

I then started to run to and from work. I remember putting my clothes and lunch in a backpack and running while listening to Alanis Morissette very loudly. On the first day I got so focused that I didn't notice the top of my bag had rubbed a fairly good sized hole out of my skin at the base of my neck so I modified the bag with a towel. There was no way it was going to stop me running.

Slowly, slowly my time for the 2.4km started decreasing and, the week before my test, I managed to push out 11.18min. And here's where my 'condition' emerged. I finished the run and checked out my watch and saw that I had come in under 11.30m, which to me was like winning gold at the Olympics!!  I then let rip with some very loud, very choice words which even had my trainer blushing. But I was on a high and nothing was going to stop me....so I celebrated with a Benson & Hedges Gold!!!!

One week later, it was a bit cold, a bit windy and I lined up with about 8 guys, ready to sit this test that had kept me up with diarrhea nerves all night!! I was a mental and physical wreck and felt like I could cry at any point. When the PT copper blew his whistle, all of the fellas ran off like they were in a bloody 100m sprint race! I was absolutely devestated. I was literally left plodding along on my own and, compared to them, I felt like I was almost walking. I didn't live far away and seriously contemplated running home and sneaking back later to get my bag. But I didn't. I kept plodding around that road with a really heavy heart, thinking I'd blown it. The two PTI's were following us in a car and they kept leaning out the window and smiling nicely, mouthing sweet little motivating words. But I could see what they were thinking, "haha - check out this one - my Grandma could get past her in a zimmerframe. She's shithouse!!". Yep, I just know they were thinking that!!

Over the next 11 odd minutes I couldn't shake the feeling of doom and felt even more stupid when the guys had finished their run and they kindly ran back to do the last few hundred metres with me. At that time in my life I didn't really embrace the whole 'team spirit' thing and just thought they were doing it to show off. So I put my head down and sprinted as fast as I could for the last 50mt and almost fell over the line. I can remember the tears stinging my eyes and thinking how stupid I looked. As if they wanted a sookie-la-la in their force anyhow!

And then the PTI simply said, "Edwards - 11m13s, well done. Inside for the pressups". Are you *****n serious????? I did it????? I actually did it???? WOOO HOOOOOO - I DID DO IT!!!! I BLOODY DID IT!!! ............................ (insert a whole lot of other similar phrases that I don't really want to repeat but sufficient to say that my tourettes was alive and well that day).

And the rest is pretty much history. I completed the next few tests without too much of a worry and went on to blitz (haha- still a bullshitter - I 'finished' I didn't 'blitz') the obstacle course. Funny the things you remember - I went home and had a magnum icecream to celebrate!! I was on a cloud even higher than cloud 9!

A couple of months later I packed my bags and flew to windy Wellington in September 1998 where I began a six month stint at the Royal New Zealand Police College.

Do you know that I still get goosebumps when I remember the feeling of conquering what felt like a Mt Everest sized challenge? And I know that I know that I know that most of the winning is completed inside your head! There were so many - SOOO MANY!!! - days that I did not want to do that lunchtime run! I would have much rather had a leisurely coffee, sandwich and gossip with my colleagues. Hells bells, it even limited my cigarette time!! It made me conscious of my alcohol consumption and it really upset my fast food Saturdays!

But I will never - NEVER NEVER NEVER - forget how it felt to stand in the NZ Police Academy and be sworn in as  a Constable. It was one of the proudest days of my life and it led me to a career that I absolutely loved. And the best part about it was it took me a lot of blood, sweat and tears to get there so I didn't take it for granted - ever! No dirty old cigarette, toasted sandwich or even cold stubbie of beer will ever taste as good as the success of getting where I wanted to go.

So here I am, a 'few' years later and I'm facing yet another huge challenge. Is it like Mt Everest? Bloody oath it is!! I now have a few more years under my belt, three children, a shift working husband, no family support close by, a fantastic but very busy job, a small business and most nights are full with bootcamps and challenger sessions. On top of this I train six weight sessions and three-four cardio sessions per week. Just to add the icing on the cake, I'm choosing not to eat what most of the world eats so have to make sure I constantly have access to my food choices.

Do I love it? HELL YES!!!!! I'm on a wild ride at the moment and each week I'm seeing little successes. I'm dogged in my approach and will not, can not give up until I get to my goal!! Nothing will stop me and I've proved that you can keep up this regime at home, away on holiday, with visitors staying, on your own......it just takes some fiddling to keep the balance right and some real, tangible (not lip service) committment to the bigger goal.

Are there any side effects? Oh gosh yes!!!! Some days I'm tired - so bloody tired that I feel like my eyes are going to pop out of my head. And I'm still a bit of a sookie lala so I do have a few good cries now and again. I actually think it's quite soothing even though it still freaks Rob out a little.....after 13 years of seeing me cry for just about any reason at all. And some days I feel an awful lot of guilt about how self-centered it can be. But, in all reality, that guilt is just something that is there - whether I was doing this or not, I'd feel it for one reason or another so I don't dwell on it.

All of this big long story was to illustrate just how wonderful I felt when I got to my mini-goal of completing 10 full chinups this week. After which I fell on the floor and let my tourettes take over. I then did five more sets but could only manage 5 at each set.

The chinups have made amazing changes to my biceps and I fully recommend them as an addition to boring old curls. The increase in muscle has been brilliant.

Do I want to get to 15 chinups? Not sure. Not sure the gym members could cope with my language if I managed that. But I've got a few other little goals to hit and one is to squat 100kgs. I'm at 77.5kg so a way to go but, bit by bit, I'll get there.

Just for tonight, my mini goal is to get to bed before 10.30pm and I'm not sure I can achieve it but my first step is to get off this computer.........

But I just want to say this also - almost as good as achieving my own goals is seeing and being a part of others reaching theirs. And that's what makes my current role as a trainer so brilliant. I thrive on watching people achieve. I get frustrated when they don't, and I want to lend them a little of my committment. I want them to feel how it feels to get to where they want to be. I am so certain that if they felt the success, they would never give up again!!

So that's what drives me each and every day to keep going. I just love it!!

It's All A Numbers Game...

This will appeal to those of you who like numbers. Not a great fan myself but hey, this year is all about trying to look at things from a different perspective.

106 - is the days since I've eaten a piece of bread. It was a clear and sunny Australia Day when I had the yummiest great big burger at my beautiful friend's Aussie Day bbq. I can still smell the marinated steak and taste the cheese slices on that fat, big, white bun......

27,3645 - is the amount of times I've thought about eating bread since January 26, 2012. Impressive by any standards.

78 - is the kilos I managed to lift in my stiff-leg deadlifts last night. It's a personal best, and while Arnie might not blink an eyelid, I'm quietly (or clearly not so quietly!) happy.

4.5 - is the months until I hit that stage at the Darwin Entertainment Centre. Perhaps it is time to actually enter. Didn't want to look the geek who entered first!

6 - is the average number of coffees I've consumed in the last two weeks while attending a course. Cripes!! That's scary!

14 - is the average number of trips to the toilet in each day of training. Damn.

1 - is the number of green teas I have downed in the last week. Ashamed.

13 - is the number of vitamin & mineral tabs I'm supposed to take daily.

9 - is the number I normally swallow. The rest are put in the; "too peppery", "too big", "too annoying" "too green" basket.

19 - is the average number of times I complain about my food, supplements and vitamins in one day. It's actually much better than it used to be so my family are used to it.

Training Schedule
So, onto some serious stuff. My training is still on a strange road and, love it I don't. Why? Because it's a touch on the bland side and it's quite repetitive.

I've summarised before that I am on a series of compound exercises. Each training set consists of just two exercises, eg. deadlifts & chest press. The weight load is heavy and the form is as close to perfect as I can manage. The reps are 8-10, so as still to be in that muscle building zone (remember, low reps is strength building, not necessarily promoting muscle growth, and high reps is endurance training). The rest time is 3 days between sets and, in this time, I'm allowed to slip in some circuit training but no heavy weights.

The idea is that the training session itself is very intense in the weight side of things, but doesn't really produce the intense panting and sweating that I'm used to. However, in the next 72 hours the muscles are striving to recover to the stress by growing bigger. It really does work and I'm feeling quite bulky. Happy happy joy.

What's hard about that? Bulky isn't always a great feeling. The tape measure is going up. The scales are going up. I'm feeling a little on the big and bulky side, and I really miss the intense feeling of my other workouts.

What's the theory? Well firstly, both my training and complete common sense would say that, I can't reach peak condition and slim down and be in perfect form in May.....when the competition is in September. No one can maintain the sort of condition needed for that long. So that forces me to start tricking things up. Take a step up in body weight, change my training style, alter the food slightly. If done correctly it should produce a good result in the long run - mine being muscle building.

Then when things start slowing down, I imagine it will be time to cut some weight, increase the rep range, increase the exercises, look at isolating some muscles.

So to reach a goal, it may mean you need to take a big step forward, followed by a couple of sideways steps (that may just feel backward) and then launch forward again. It's hard on the mind and not always easy to swallow when your body changes in strange ways. But it really is the only way to make big changes.

So I'm chugging along, chest pressing, deadlifting, squatting and chin upping. Those four basic compounds hit just about each and every muscle that you'd want to hit. How old-school is that?!

I've resorted to a few props to help out with increasing weights.
1. Gloves - absolutely essential to prevent nasty, ugly callouses.
2. Belt - not so much to save an ailing back (though it helps to a point) but more to prevent too much core stimulation. Also a close second as a fashion accessory.
3. Wraps - much controversy over these however, when the goal is simply to lift a heavy enough weight to stress the muscles, whether my wrists are doing the work or not is irrelevant to me.

Here's the scary look I go for!!

And here's the most awful ab exercise I've done in a while. 20kg on a bar to stabilise, a 3kg med ball between feet. Drop legs to the right side, middle, left side, middle = 1, x 10 in total. Thanks Michelle "I read tons of magazines and find the worst exercises in the world to tempt you" Broughton.

So that's it from me for now. As we speak, I'm off to the gym for some more Chin Ups - YIPEEEEE!!!!

What Tiredness Does To Me....

Being tired is a terrible thing. I vividly remember having a newborn child, a 15 month old toddler, and a husband who regularly travelled away from home on work courses. I remember living in some sort of mental fog and being able to jump from tears to manic laughter in a split second, and wondering what the actual definition of mentalness was, and, more importantly, how far away I was from achieving it!

OK - so I'm not quite at that tired stage, but I am feeling a little weary this week and my concentration isn't quite what it normally is. Example; A couple of days ago I set about making a yummy protein shake following a wickedly heavy weights session. Plastic shake container on the bench, insert 300ml of cold low-fat milk along with a large scoop of double-chocolate protein powder (life is tough!), then a snappy handful of frozen berries. I then inserted my little white, powerful whizz-stick and hit the pulse button.

At exactly that moment, someone started up some sort of heavy-duty machinery somewhere in the house and the sound was horrendous. I continued whizzing my shake while furiously scanning the lounge for what the hell was making that sound!! I experienced a little resistance in my shake but assumed (uh-oh!) that it was just the frozen berries being a little harder than usual.

"For crying out loud!!! Stop that bloody noise! You're driving me mental" I predictably yelled at no-one in particular, and continued to jam the whizz-stick a little harder into the container to try and break up those concrete-hard berries! I accepted the fact that the shake would be lumpy today due to aforementioned berries so I stopped the whizzer and then, and only then, did I realise that I had left the little spiral metal shaker thingie in the bottom of the shake container. My whizz stick had managed to half suck the life out of the spiral thingie that was now well and truly wedged three times around the blades.

The cause of the tiredness? Nothing in particular but everything all at once. I'm not going to dissect and complain about my week because there is nothing, not one thing, that I'd omit and nothing I regret taking on. So let's just accept that some weeks are more full-on than others and it's ok to admit to weariness as long as it doesn't cost me too many small appliances.

I haven't really given any time to my wonderful weekend away in Darwin so I'll backtrack a little. Michelle and I drove up on a Friday afternoon and checked in at about 3pm. By 5pm we had our runners on and, with great enthusiasm, we headed over to The Stairs (the Esplanade is its other name). We had no idea which way to go but spotted a 'fellow runner' (hehe!) emerge from the stairs with a red face so we headed to his direction. Quick stop to adjust the shoe laces (does anyone else suffer from the over-powering need to always adjust their laces just before running/??!! I drive myself mad!!), a few more minutes to ensure good music (another one of my near ocd tendencies!!) and we decided that M would be the forerunner while I kept up the rear. I like to think it's my fine police training that makes me the logical person to remain out-back to ensure we aren't 'hit from behind', however the truth is that she's faster than me and I like to hide the fact that I'm half-dead from her. I think she suspects the truth but is too gracious to bring it up in conversation. On ya Michelle!

Off we roared, down the stairs and....what an anticlimax!! Only about 15 stairs down!! Oh well, we'll keep going and surely we'll hit The Real Stairs soon. We had the choice of a left or right turn, we took the left and bounced past a carpark, headed toward the water, wondered why there seemed to be no sign of person or vehicle and realised why when we hit a dead end along the wharf front. Damn!!! Quick re-group. Turn around, along the wharf, past the car park, back up the stairs (that had turned from 15 into about 100!!) and left along the Esplanade. We headed up and down all sorts of little obstacles and made it to a road that headed to Cullen Point - about 7.5kms in total, probably about 5km the way the crow flies!! We took all of the scenic routes! Back to the hotel and off to dinner we went.

The following morning we headed to Time Out gym for our much anticipated Bootcamp session...only to find that Darwinites are a little on the soft side and the session was cancelled due to a light rainfall the night before. I can't say the thoughts that went through my mind but I felt a little tiny wee bit of pride in our Katherine Bootcamp that has never been cancelled...and never will be if I have it my way!

Instead we settled for a CX-worx class followed by a boxing class followed by a little tour around the gym. In short we were stretched and punched and it felt great to be bossed around by someone else. Michelle is a monster with the gloves and I tried to swap places with the guy next to me but he was too much of a scaredy pants to hold the pads for her. To be honest I think she near dislocated my shoulders but I started making funny faces and doing little dances to put her off her game. It worked and I managed to get out of there in one piece.

The afternoon was spent with shopping and the movies followed by a dinner consisting of....can you believe it!!!...a Coles green salad, tuna from a can and a boiled egg mashed on top! Only a special friend could share these moments with me and enjoy them!

Sunday morning was another sleep-in and then off to yet another gym. This time Ultimate Gym & Fitness in Winnelie Road. What a fantastic setup! If you're looking for a gym with everything in it, plenty of parking and spanking new gear, go there! So I finally met up with my trainer, Sammy Laughton. What struck me first was just what a tiny frame she had ....until she showed me her posing techniques and then I got to see lats that went forever and shoulders that could make me cry with envy! We got straight to work and my first 'homework' is to learn the quarter-turn poses. In all honesty, they hurt almost as much as my current chest press routine.... I said almost!!!! It is all quite technical and there are a few special tips to remember that might just make the difference between a good and a great pose. An hour and a half of that and my mind was overwhelmed with all she had to teach me.

We headed home on Sunday afternoon, stopping at a random truck shelter to scoff down yet another green salad, and of tuna and boiled egg! True friendship! We had such a great time and I'm so grateful for my very special friend.

So I've been putting in a bit of time in front of the mirror since we got back and it's not unusual for my family to find me in gym shorts, a sports bra and very high clear plastic stilettos, prancing about while chanting something like; "feet together, thighs out, chest high, lats spread, shoulders straight...and for gods sake...keep those hands soft!! They look like claws!!!" It's definitely not as easy as it looks and I feel very clunky rather than graceful.

With this new challenge I feel further away than ever from my goal because it's unfamiliar and an area that just doesn't come that naturally for me. And I still have spangly bikinis, fake tans and big hair to come! So what's the option - give up? Hardly!! Face it and give it my best and put the hard work in - sounds good to me.

Certainly can't complain that life isn't exciting that's for sure.

Til next time!