30 Day Ab Challenge

NEWSFLASH: If you eat crepes and pastries and large chunks of white baguette every day, you gain weight. Fast, and in large quantities. 
After a glorious week in France with the Fantastic Four, I'm the heaviest I've ever been.
No bueno.
Last year there were loads of challenges going round, mostly to do with squats and crunches. So I'm jumping - very late - on to this band wagon, to see if it actually makes any difference to my sad excuse for a waistline. 
The first day was easy as I have good core strength, so I did a couple of extra exercises from Maxx's chest and ab challenge (from a different site). I might do it again later, too, and I think I'm going to get my exercise bike back out for the evenings when I just want to watch TV.

I've been struggling to eat healthy for the last few weeks, and my exercise regime has been all or nothing, so I need to be more moderate. I find this difficult in everything I do, which leads to being burnt out and not wanting / having the energy to do anything.
There are a few events coming up over summer, so I'm using them as my targets - not necessarily to weigh a certain amount, but to look more toned and fabulous. I'm tired of talking about how I want to look. I now need to actually do something about it.
These are my targets: 18th June - 30 days away - brother's birthday 27th July - 69 days away - friend's birthday 14th August - 87 days away - my 25th birthday!
And these are my current stats: Weight: ...... I'm actually too embarrassed to admit this right now. Waist: 26 1/2 inches. Hips: 37 inches.
As well as not eating like a 'fat pig' - an explanation will follow in my next post - I'll be working out 2-3 times a week, riding 4-5 times a week (especially training for dressage and showjumping competitions), and running (now I have new trainers).
Depending on how this challenge goes, I will post a before and after, then a before and after on /  around 14th August.

Culture: Salisbury Cathedral

Last Thursday, I went to Salisbury Cathedral with two students. I can’t remember if I’ve ever been there before, so I was really looking forward to exploring it, as well as visiting the Magna Carta exhibition (one of the remaining four parts is kept in Salisbury Cathedral).

From the station, it's a 15-minute scenic walk away; along the high street and next to a river. We walked under an ancient bridge, rounded the corner of some trees and there it was – absolutely magnificent. I was immediately struck by how forbidding it looked, towering above us and reaching straight into the sky.

After taking some pictures outside, we went in to collect our exhibition tickets. They were free, but because it can get busy, the website recommends booking a time slot in advance; however, we were able to go in before our time as it was quiet when we arrived.

What struck me as we went to the exhibition entrance was the large cloister with two enormous trees in the middle; I imagined monks wandering around it, studying and praying (it really drew my mind back to Ken Follet’s Pillar’s of the Earth). I love reading gravestones too, and there were plenty of them in the walls and floor; I think the oldest I saw in the cloister was about 300 years old.

The exhibition itself was fascinating – it explained exactly what the Magna Carta was, why it was significant 800 years ago and the effect it’s had on the law today. It also drew attention to the state of the legal system internationally, including the percentage of prisoners currently awaiting trial and the level of corruption in each country’s system.

The document itself is written in minute handwriting; as parchment was so expensive, the barons had to save as much space as possible. Sometimes it's hard to imagine just how signifcant things like the Magna Carta are, but looking at it and reading the translation really highlighted how influential this document was - or should that be is? The translation has emboldened the three clauses that are still in our laws today - most notably, that people cannot be imprisoned without reason and must be tried by their peers.

After lunch, we joined a tour of the Cathedral. Originally built in Sarum in the 12th century, it suffered during the Reformation in the 16th century when a man called James Wyatt took out the stained glass windows, among other things. I won't list everything I learnt, but I loved looking at the tombs and effigies and learning about the people buried in them. I'm fascinated by Lady Jane Grey (the girl who was Queen for 9 days), so was pleased to find her sister has a memorial in the Cathedral, put there by her son. There's also a font near the entrance, which reflects the ceiling and window at the opposite end of the Cathedral, which is stunning; I managed to get a picture of the reflection after multiple attempts to angle myself correctly but getting my sleeve wet instead.

Salisbury Cathedral was wonderful in so many ways - the recommended donation is £4.25 for students, which is definitely worth it, and the exhibition is free! I hope to go back in Summer with Maxx, and relax on the grass outside afterwards.

Pictures will be uploaded when I'm back in England.

Eventer's Challenge: 19.04.15

I can't remember the last showjumping competition I went to. It may have been over 2 years ago, possibly even more - I know I did a clear round in November, but it wasn't an actual competition.
Ernest is 19 this year, and while that's not old, I've been feeling that if I want to get back to our former glory - our highest was 3 ft 3 in 2010 - I really need to get on with it. How many more years can I say, "I really want to start jumping again" before it's too late?
A couple of Tuesdays ago (14th April) I took my adopted little sister (not actually adopted, you know what I mean) to meet Lara Bingle, where we once again got on to the topic of me going competing. I told her to kick me up the butt to get out and do things, and she immediately responded with:
"There's an Eventer's Challenge on Sunday. You should come with us. I'm doing the 2 ft 6 class - 8 show jumps, 8 cross country. Do it."
Well, why not. I'd just bemoaned not competing, so why not throw myself in at the deep end?
I entered the 2 ft 6 class and managed to book a lesson for Thursday 16th. It was such a good decision, as it gave me so much confidence. Having fallen off in February, when I last jumped, and in the warm up arena in November, I was anxious. Ernest gets really excited and leaps about during the warm up for any kind of jumping, which is why I usually fall off, but this lesson taught me what to do when he starts throwing shapes. Instead of backing off, I need to take control so that he listens to me instead of finding everything else more interesting. I also need to show him that he can't get away with being naughty, and that if I give a command he needs to respect it.
Sunday dawned and I felt a mixture of nerves, determination and excitement. The first thing I had to tackle was the warm-up arena; if I could get through that, I would be fine.
Ernest threw a few shapes, to which I responded: "You're not getting me off you little arsehole!". I genuinely felt a rising panic when I went in there, as if my stomach had dropped out and it was just hollow, so I really appreciated Jaime checking on me. After 30 minutes and a couple of warm-up fences, I went out to watch Jaime's round.
She rode well, but Fynn didn't like a couple of fences so they didn't go clear.
There was one rider in between our rounds. My body protector is so tight I can never tell if I can't breathe from nerves or just general constriction, but I certainly felt a bit... breathless.
Then it was my turn.
Coming round to the first fence, Ernest threw his head joyfully into the air. I remember thinking, "Here we go."
There's a saying in showjumping that there are two fences you don't want to knock down: the first and the last. I've knocked down the first fence at a huge championship before, and I still remember the frustration. So, even though I was trying to place, I really didn't want to mess up the first jump. I'd also never live it down as my instructor was there (she was the course designer and so was judging the fences).
We got over the first fence clear. Away we were. 

Ernest was in his element, popping the fences like they were poles on the ground. I was enjoying myself, but also concentrating on all the things I needed to do: sit up after the fences, leg on right up to take-off, straight approach, don't cut corners, slight outside bend, correct leg, sit up between fences... 
We went clear - easily, I might add, thanks to my brilliant steed.
I was completely elated with my round. I corrected him when he was on the wrong leg, was conscious of riding every fence and tried to fold over the fences instead of just sitting there and letting the reins slip out of my hands. Looking at the pictures afterwards, and speaking to my instructor, I think I really rode and wasn't just a passenger. 
We didn't place, as we weren't fast enough, but I don't mind. I'm already dreaming about jumping 3 ft again, maybe even 3 ft 3. I just want to go out again soon to keep building up my confidence.

Gym Story #2

This story is about Grandad Ben. Ever since I posted about Swan Lake, I've been gently reminded  - just kidding, Grandad isn't a 'gentle reminder' kind of man - that Grandma has a blog post about her and he hasn't. And that he paid for me to go too, not just Grandma.
So here's a whole post just for you, Grandad Ben...

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Grandma and Grandad go to the gym for their 'old-timers' circuit class - basically, a class for the old people of Basingstoke to sit on the machines and chat. Some of them really go for it and some of them just go for the gossip. I see you, Grandma and Rita, by the rowing machines. I see you.
I decided to meet them at the gym, where we planned to have a drink after our workouts. Luckily there was a treadmill right behind Grandad, who was on the cross trainer. After spurring him on with encouraging words such as "Come on Grandad, put some effort in!" and "Bloody hell Ben, I think you could go a bit faster!", I thought it would funny to throw my jumper at him.
Unfortunately, there was a well-placed mirror, so Grandad wasn't taken by surprise. But it did land perfectly on his head.
Now, this may seem unkind, but we have a long history of throwing things at each other - mostly tiny bits of rolled up napkin when we're out to dinner. Obviously, I get blamed while Grandad laughs at me if the bits of napkin hit anyone. He also always aims to get them in Grandma's hoodie, bag, etc, and usually succeeds.
Grandad Ben was not going to take this jumper attack lying down. He threw it behind him, clearly aiming for me.
The jumper completely missed. It hit the lady next to me, casually chatting to her friend. She was even nice enough to pass me it, while I loudly chastised Grandad for throwing things at innocent gym-goers.
1-0 to me. 

An Easter Surprise...

On Good Friday, my brother, Maxx and I were playing Texas Hold 'Em at the table when Mum let out a sad sigh.   "Have you seen this?" she said. "Yeah, don't read it out, I know what you're going to say. It's really sad." Gaz replied. "What? What is it?" I said.
Mum read out the Facebook post from Wimbledon Greyhound Welfare (quoted from their page):
LONELY LARA...Lara has been returned to us after two years in a home. Sadly, her daddy is no longer able to care for her due to ill-health and her mummy did not have time for her. She has been poorly since she came back earlier this week but is on the mend now and is in our Sanctuary. Lara would love to go home for Easter. If anyone is interested in homing Lara, please come and meet her at the kennels or give us a call.
I mean, come on - anyone with a heart would admit that's a horribly sad story. We all felt touched and wished we could take her in.  "It's not me you need to convince, it's your dad!" Mum stated. This was true - but then he is number 1 dog-walker and lawn de-pooper (he works from home so takes them out around 4, when most people are still at work so he doesn't run into too many little dogs and before it gets dark in Winter). When we mentioned how feasible it would be to take Lonely Lara on, he pulled a 'I'm not sure' face, so we said no more. I walked in on Saturday morning as Mum and Gaz were talking about Lonely Lara again. I joined in and, to our utter, utter shock, Dad said: "Well give the kennels a call and enquire about her then." We all stared at him. Mum was the most shocked. I ran off to call Denise at the kennels before he could change his mind. She didn't pick up, so I left a message and Gaz and I went to the gym (back and biceps, if you're interested. I did 40kg on a close-grip pulldown - don't act like you're not impressed). After a brief phone call, Denise and I agreed that we'd go up to see Lonely Lara at 2pm that day. Mum, Gaz, Claus, Princess and I piled into the car and drove to Hersham - it was a fun journey, and I think we were quite excited knowing that, really, it was a done deal. We couldn't meet a needy hound and leave her behind. Well, out Lonely Lara bounced from the kennel. She was clearly excited to go for her walk, and after plenty of sniffing, we took the three of them for a little wander. It really depended on whether Princess could live with another girlhound, so we walked the girls side by side. It went well so we let them out in the paddock together. They had a few sniffs, but still no growly business. It was settled. She was coming home.

From left: Princess, Lara, Claus

Lucky Lara, as she's now known (as well as Lara Bingle - long story), has settled in really well and is particularly attached to my brother. There's only been one growly bear incident when Princess gave Lara an unwelcome sniff, and that's it. We've established she likes wandering about the garden, snuggling on the sofa and standing in the pond.
Our aim now is to get some weight on her - she's very thin. Denise warned me on the phone that Lara was a fussy eater and had had an infection, which was being treated, but that her blood tests had come back fine. She's nearly finished her medicine and has been eating and drinking more - she is fussier than Claus and Princess, but Claus was wary of unfamiliar foods at first, too. She loves meat and star-shaped Winalot biscuits, so over the next few weeks as she settles in more we'll find out other things she likes to eat.
We have no regrets about taking Lara. She's a wonderful hound and we can already see her playful side coming out - she's had quite a tumultuous couple of weeks, going from her home back to the kennels, being poorly, moving in with us and meeting all the family over the Easter weekend, but she seems to have coped very well.

Gareth and Lara snuggled up on Sunday night

Hurray! Lent is over!

As of yesterday - my Grandad Ben's birthday - Lent is over! My aunt and I have been trying to find the correct date and have both researched on a variety of different websites. The 4 (!) dates that are apparently the end of Lent are: Maundy Thursday (yesterday), Palm Sunday (last Sunday), Good Friday and Easter Sunday.
Basically I decided that Lent had been long enough, so I chose Maundy Thursday. And it's what Google said.
Lent 2015 was tough. I missed chocolate from week one. It got easier after a couple of weeks, but last weekend my aunt, mum and I were in Edinburgh, and every time we went into M & S to stock up we would walk soooooo slooooooooowly past the Easter egg displays. Luckily our resolve didn't break (we'd all given up chocolate so were suffering together).
I promised myself the first thing I'd eat on Maundy Thursday would be a Twirl bar, so on Tuesday I bought two of them and kept them by the side of my bed. I nearly opened one just to sniff it but decided that was too risky...
It. was. worth it. Delicious. Smooth. Sweet. All of the good adjectives.
However, I think I overdid it somewhat - or my ability to gorge on chocolate has decreased after my period of sacrifice. In 24 hours, I ate 2 Twirls, 1 creme egg, 1 Hotel Chocolat caramel bunny, 1 mini pack of Mini Eggs and 1 chocolate sponge pudding. I'm lactose intolerant, so yes, I did have a bad stomach. Again, it was worth it.
Luckily I went for a hack with lots of trotting and did a tough workout, so at least some of my gorging was burnt off!
Happy Easter everyone.

So Help Me I'm Turning Into My Mother...

It started with an innocent visit, and ended with me resolved to do a PhD.

For my Postgraduate Certificate in Learning and Teaching in Higher Education (PGCLTHE), I needed to observe a member of staff, preferably from a different department to the one I work in. The ELT unit is actually in the Business, Law and Sport faculty, so I decided to pay my old dissertation lecturer – Gary – a visit.

After agreeing to let me observe one of his lessons, we got chatting about Masters’ programmes. I’d been looking but hadn’t found one which matched my interests of eugenics and literature – there were courses on 19^th century literature, 19^th century studies, etc, but nothing that piqued my interest. So Gary suggested doing a research project (code for PhD).

Had I been thinking about it? Yes. Did Gary think I could do it? Yes.

Then, the deciding factor. Gary offered to be my supervisor. Yessss!

I came away with a renewed focus and sense of purpose. I’d finish teaching on Winter School then see Gary again to discuss the possibility of me doing a PhD.

I sent a text to my mum, saying I was thinking about a PhD and that Gary had said he’d supervise me. I knew she was excited because she replied straightaway with a line of smiley faces. I told her not to get too excited as I needed to think about it. She followed that up with a sad face. Hmmm.

When I got home, Mum ushered my Dad and Maxx into the living room. I was sat on the floor, fussing Claus, when I realised I’d been surrounded. They were like sharks. What followed was 10 minutes of insistence that I do a PhD, and me fretting about the financial side and whether I was capable. Maxx later told me that Mum had instructed them both to convince me to do it.

At the next meeting, Gary asked me if I’d thought anymore about it. I told him I wanted to do it and we discussed the ideas I had.

The following day I saw an interesting post on the University portal: “University offers 10 fully-funded research studentships for 175^th anniversary”. Well – fully funded, with a maintenance grant, and £500pa of research expenses.

The downside: the deadline was in 3 weeks.

What followed was an intense period of studying, stressing, writing, rewriting and thinking. There was so much to do. How could I write a literature review of the field with only 3 weeks to research? How could I turn my thoughts and ideas about eugenics and literature into a proposal that could compete with other students’ proposals? Which research method was I going to use? What even is a research method?

I handed it in on Friday 13^th March. Unlucky for some, hopefully lucky for me. I won’t find out until May whether I’ve been shortlisted for interview, so until then I’ll just have to sit tight and focus on finishing my PGCLTHE.


So help me I'm turning into my mother. Soon I'll have as many qualifications as she does!