Thursday 30 December 2010

Run Sweeney Run: Pace, Pace, Baby

With the excitement of Christmas over and 2 days off work, I did what I do best when boredom kicks in and ate everything in sight. Leftovers are devious little bastards. Let me tell you, there's nothing to make you want to train harder than your favourite skinny jeans pinching (this week's work wardrobe consists of tights and floaty dresses). So this week, I'm stepping it up.

I've always had a problem with pace when it comes to running; in the third minute of my SUPERchicks 10k I was running at 20.13 km/hr, in the fifth, I was running at 11.11 km/hr, in the twelfth, 14.19 km/hr - what?! One of the few things I like about treadmill running is that it allows me to keep a steady pace, something I'll definitely need for the Paris Half Marathon.

So when I found AudioFuel at the London Running Show a few weeks ago, I was very interested. AudioFuel provide music to accompany your training, with a beat to match your drive and stride. Their products fall into three categories (low, mid and high intensity), and there's interval training, long run training and timed sessions. And the best thing? They come with coaching. So, I picked up an interval training session and Run Free 1, an hour of mid intensity training. After the eating extravaganza that was Christmas, I've stepped it up to Run Wild 1, an hour of high intensity training.


I've been using AudioFuel for a couple of weeks and I love it. It's really helped me with my pace, form and stamina, and it stops me getting bored on the longer runs. I find the coaching really helpful too - it's not too frequent (a few lines of encouragement at the start of each track, plus some useful tips scattered throughout) and not at all shouty, plus you get a time check every ten minutes. The music isn't what I'd normally chose to run to (I'm an R&B girl if you must know) and it's not going to win a Grammy anytime soon, but it's so easy to listen to and it's not at all bad for what it is - expect electronic beats, with some fun percussion thrown in for a bit of flavour.  Take a look at the website for music samples.

Here's a snippet of the coaching from Run Wild 1, which I found really handy:
"You're probably aware that beats per minute is not an accurate indication of speed, because depending on your height and stride this will be a fast pace for some, and a relatively slow pace for others. The aim of these long runs is primarily to build distance, duration and stamina. The most important thing is to get miles under your belt, and to train your body to burn its own energy supplies."
The interval training is fabulous too - perfect for a high intensity session without having to worry about exactly how fast you need to go and how long for.

I could go on, but I don't want to bore you. Have a peep at the AudioFuel website to see what I'm on about. And let me know what you think - perfect pace keeper or another money-wasting training fad?

Saturday 25 December 2010

The Christmas Dinner Challenge: Live

Happy Christmas everyone! I hope Santa's been kind to you all! (However, if you've woken up to a lump of coal, you need to think long and hard about what you did this year. Santa doesn't mess about).

I'm still in bed, but according to the list of cooking times I wrote yesterday, the doom starts at 9.30am. Just enough time for breakfast and presents.

09:05 Breakfast is cooking, Meat 1 (Porky) is in his tray, ready to go.

10:10 Ah, we don't have enough chairs. Porky is cooking, time to start on Meat 2 (Lamby).

11:17 Yes I know what cocking gas mark it's on, I put it there. Now fuck off out of my kitchen.

11:23 I've broken all my nails. Can't allow myself to turn to the booze just yet. Coffee and swearing.

11:30 Shopping the Selfridges online sale. Fuck the food.

12:10 There's no room in the oven for Meat 3 (Beefy). Riiiight.

12:48 Mum hasn't cleaned the bathroom. It was her only job. Bitchfit.

13:54 It all just got a bit mental. Lamb out, potatoes in, pork looks wicked. Beef still sitting on the windowsill. Feck.

14:30 ARGH

15:17 They're sitting and eating. No-one's dead yet. Dog has her eyes on everything, she's going to snap any second.

16:04 Everyone's eaten. Was fabulous, but no crackling - I can't seem to get it to do anything but go brown and fatty? Secretly feeding the dog lamb in the kitchen because she's got a fabulous jumper on:

Friday 24 December 2010

The Christmas Dinner Challenge: Update

It's Christmas Eve. In my fridge, three different meat joints are jostling for space with heaps of vegetables, Tesco's entire cheese stock, and lots of old, rotting food that I haven't thrown out yet (am clearly domestic goddess).

I AM NOT PREPARED. The tree only went up on Wednesday night, I still have presents to wrap, and I'm pretty sure someone important is going to be without a present on Christmas Day and I'll be forced to wrap up a box of at-home hair dye. My boyfriend came over at 2.30am today on the way home from a gig to pick up one of his presents that hadn't been delivered when we did the Great Gift Swap (because I'd ordered it very late, despite having it bookmarked on my browser for about 2 months), and I haven't written a single list. I'm usually all about the lists.

So as you can see, tomorrow is full of comedy potential. I'll have forgotten a vital ingredient (I'm betting on potatoes), will have a bitch fit at every single member of my family, cry, drop something important, and burn/cut/otherwise maim myself/others. Obviously, you won't want to miss that, so I'm going to live blog it for you! Hurrah! Expect lots of swearing and CAPITAL LETTERS indicating disaster.

Tonight, however, I will be making a sodding quiche. Yes I know it's not Christmassy, and it's a god damn pain in the ass, but Mama Sween asked ever so nicely, and threw in the puppy dog eyes for good measure. Add to that the 'Oh, well if you don't want to, don't worry about it' guilt trip comment (I heard: 'You're a fucking awful daughter, this is the one thing I've asked you to do and you won't do it. After everything I've done for you?! I'm going to die one day and this will haunt you. Bitch.') , and she had her way. But first, there will be mulled wine. I find it makes everything better, even pastry-making.

Y'all have a fabulous Christmas Eve. See you bright and early for food and swearing!

Tuesday 21 December 2010

The early bird... goes window shopping.

It's so much prettier when all the pesky people go home.
Flickr image from Cristiano Betta's photostream

Alarm-clock issues resolved (alarm clock app makers take note: an app that flashes 'Please wake up', but doesn't make any noise, is useless) and bored of treadmill running, I rolled out of bed the other day at 5.45am for my first morning road run in a long time.

I live in Central London, and am a little extremely anxious about being murdered on my morning run. So, I figured a run up to Oxford Circus and back would be a safe route - main roads = more people to save me from the crazy hypothetical murderer.

It turned out to be one of the loveliest runs I've ever had. I'd been in Oxford Street the night before, picking up a few Christmas presents, and it was mayhem. But at 6am, it was just me, the road sweepers, and a few hardcore party-goers from the night before. It was the first time I'd really noticed the Christmas lights, and it was the perfect opportunity to do a bit of window shopping (I may have slowed down for a proper look).

A few other things I noticed on my new favourite route:
  • There is a lot of vomit around. Must learn to spot before almost landing in it.
  • People buy food from KFC at 6.20am
  • The Marble Arch KFC is open at 6.20am
  • The Selfridges Christmas windows aren't as good as they used to be - anyone remember the good old days of The Owl and the Pussycat windows?
  • There's a slight incline between Selfridges and Debenhams - who knew? 
  • Drunk people make great cheerleaders
So, Central London runners, if you're like me and you get bored quickly (please don't let me be the only one), you'll love an early morning run through the West End. Also, I'd like some other runners to roll my eyes at while I'm being shouted at by drunks. 

Tuesday 14 December 2010

The Christmas Dinner Challenge

Flickr image from didbygraham's photostream

In my family, we all take it in turns to host Christmas. This is mainly because none of us have a suitable Christmas house (you know, like Nigella's) - we're all equally poor, living in equally teeny flats in Central and West London, and none of us have the luxury of a dining room/garden/anywhere to put children and old people. So no-one ever wants to host the bloody thing (Baby Jesus would be proud). This year, we lost.

Over breakfast with my mum on the weekend, I was told (not asked) that I'd be cooking Christmas lunch. For 10 people and a Yorkshire Terrier.

So this is where I need your help. Please tell me what to feed them.

Now before I go on, there's something else I need to tell you about my family and Christmas - we've never had turkey for Christmas dinner. Is that awful? I think it may be a Filipino thing, they have no time for giant, dry birds.

Pretty much anything else goes though, and vegetablists aren't allowed in our family, so all meat-tastic ideas welcome. And anything that can be prepared the day before so I don't have to get up at the crack of dawn would be just fabulous. I will of course be combing my favourite food blogs over the next week, but if there are any you think I ought to know about, please share!

Alternatively, if you'd like to volunteer to come over and cook for 10 Filipinos and a Yorkshire Terrier on Christmas Day, you can have my first born.

Monday 13 December 2010

SUPERwomen


In your face Lurgy, I'm all better now. And just to prove it, I'm off to train with the fantabulous SUPERchicks this evening. In a park. It'll be 2 degrees.

Don't know who SUPERchicks are? Let me fix that for you. Everyone knows that group exercise is the best way to work out, and it just so happens that SUPERchicks is the best group exercise in the world, ever.

You've heard of British Military Fitness right? Quite frankly, they're freaking terrifying (I've walked past a group training session and nearly cried - they're scary). SUPERchicks is an all-girl - and therefore far less intimidating - alternative. But there's so much more to it:
  1. Their motto is 'Cocktails and Cardio'. No need to pretend you didn't have that cheeky mojito (or 4) on the weekend.
  2. They offer both online training and group training sessions - so even if you're not in London (the group training sessions take place in Battersea Park and Hyde Park) you don't need to miss out on the training goodness - there are 120 different online exercise programmes to choose from, so you can do them at home, or take them to the gym.
  3. SUPERCat, the founder of SUPERchicks is freaking amazing. I've never seen anyone with so much energy in my life.
  4. It's a fantastic way to make friends. I've met so many great girls, and if you're looking for a source of inspiration, look no further - just take a look at what the amazing Justine is doing!
  5. The SUPERtrainers are so friendly, you won't notice your muscles screaming for mercy till it's too late. It's the gossip distraction technique, it's dangerous. 
  6. They run extra programmes on top of the group training sessions. Recent ones include Female Fight Club, SUPERpilates and Learn To Run (which I'm going to be all over in preparation for Paris). 
  7. Have you checked out the Alcohol Calorie Calculator and the Food Calorie Calculator? Amazing. But a little depressing when you find out your favourite Pret sandwich is completely calorific.
  8. You get an online training locker when you join, which is jam-packed full of lots of things you can do instead of work, like the online training programmes, nutritional advice, a training diary and COCKTAIL RECIPES.
  9. Every Monday, a motivational email plops into your inbox to fend off the Monday blues.
  10. Since I've signed up, they've got me to run my first ever 10k and sign up for a commando-style assault course in the middle of winter (which has been postponed because of the stupid snow). There's also talk of jumping out of planes, but let's not talk about that right now. 
Go see for yourself - they're at www.iamsuperchick.com. Enjoy!

Run Sweeney Run update: Thank you so much to all of you who have donated to Team Bangs on the Run. We've raised over £1,000 for Refuge, and we're over the moon! Please keep spreading the word though, we still have that massive target to meet!

Monday 6 December 2010

Run Sweeney Run: Day 90

And so it begins. The Paris Half Marathon is in 90 days. Three months. 


I'd been running and working out pretty regularly until a couple of weeks ago, when I caught the dreaded Office Lurgy. Hearing about other people's illnesses is just as dull as looking at other people's holiday snaps, only grosser, so I'll save you the details. Basically, the Lurgy took me down. I spent two weeks comfort-eating and whining instead of eating my greens and at least keeping my strength training up.

Flickr image from soopahgrover's photostream
 
When I surfaced from my germy pity party on Thursday for a PT session, I'd clearly underestimated just how feeble I'd become. The lovely PT took it easy on me, but even so, I was awful. I had well and truly fallen off the fitness wagon. PT instructed me not to run until I'd lost the really attractive cough I'd been sharing with the world, which hampered my plans for a cheeky - and very slow - 5k on the weekend. 


So having spent most of the weekend pottering about at home, making and eating Thai food and thrifty soup for the week's lunch, I've finally shaken the cough. I was very excited - yes, that's lame, but I haven't done anything exciting in weeks - and planned a treadmill interval session for this morning. Packed bag, set out gym clothes, alarm set for 5.50am, early night. 


The god damn alarm didn't go off. I woke up at 6.26am, firing expletives at my phone and the stupid fancy alarm clock app I'd installed (it tells you the weather so you don't have to use your eyes to look out the window). 


In summary, Day 90 = FAIL. 


The training starts tomorrow. Day 89 will be better, I promise. 

Thursday 2 December 2010

A carrot girl

Mr Motivator is just one of my many fitness heroes. Celebrities, friends and complete strangers all inspire me, but this guy doesn't quite make it on to my list:


Remember him? Scary Harvey from Fat Club - former U.S. Marine Drill Instructor and the most frightening man in fitness. Harvey's technique mainly involved yelling at people until they crumbled into a bawling, blubbering mess, halfheartedly burpeeing their way through their training session.

I love working out, but I have no self-discipline. I can talk myself out of a planned training session in seconds, so I, like many of Harvey's victims, need someone to answer to. Which is why I have a lovely PT at the gym and am a member of the fantastical SUPERchicks (more about them another time, they deserve their own post). However, I chose these people to be my Discipline Lords because they're friendly and encouraging, but still give me a workout that Mr Motivator would be proud of. The Harvey method seems crazy to me - strenuous exercise is hard enough without being verbally abused at the same time. But then again, maybe uncontrollable sobbing burns more calories?

I realise the stick works for lot of people, but I'm definitely a carrot girl - my carrots of choice being food and gossip. The only thing that got me through the last few kilometers of last month's 10k was the thought of the beautiful bacon sandwich waiting on the other side (it was protein and totally approved by our SUPERchick leader), and both my PT and the SUPERchick trainers have their gossip distraction techniques down. In fact, it's not unusual for PT to promise me 'a really good story after you've finished this' as he straps me into bungee ropes or whacks another 40kg onto the squat rack.

I'd love to hear what motivates you. Stick-lovers (don't be rude), do you put yourself at the mercy of a particularly harsh trainer or training buddy? Are you one of those people that shouts abuse at yourself when your legs start to tire on a run? Or are you a carrot-lover too? 
                                                  Flikr image from Cyn74's photostream