In the Big Pool with the Big Boys

Today I got to play in the big pool with the big boys. Picture this ... 08:00 on a Thursday morn, Virgin Active swimming pool surrounded on ground level by the dudes who pull and pluck weights attached to thick reinforced threads of steel, looming above the pool are bikes, spinning machines and treadmills. But the real action is down below in the swimming pool where the big boys swim ...

Four lanes of team swimmers, 5 to a lane, seriously churning up the water as they notch up megamiles on their well-toned arms, pecs, six packs and legs. And in the 5th lane closest to the wall , reserved for casual swimmers? That's where I am, cycling atop a pool noodle, very much resembling a seahorse. I do hold a certain fascination for the fitness fanatics around me, because I have my own personal biokineticist gently easing me into the various complicated permetations of where the noodle needs to be positioned and exactly what I should be doing to the errant knee (and at this stage - the many other errant body parts that have forgotten that they need to work in a certain pattern in order for me to propel my leviathon bod across the length of the pool).

My progress is sedate and laborious in comparison with the team swimmers zooming through their multiple lengths, bragging with the prowess of being able to do those fancy flip-flop turns at the end of each length as I reach for the wall and gasp my last breath, having managed to co-ordinate my legs in cycling backwards for the first time. Memories of having been a provincial sportswoman in my youth are feint and fuzzy - or is that merely the result of lack of oxygen to the lungs due to inordinate effort? How are the mighty fallen ...

Let it suffice to say that my heart rate was raised and yay! Today I felt that I had a great workout - I got to sweat!

Water ... me ... my knee ...

And I DID look as gorgeous as I thought I might in my cozzie! I decided to forego the lumo orange bathing cap and went with the more sophisticated little black number that hugged my ears enticingly - and prevented me from hearing the biokineticist's instructions, so I had to tuck it behind my ears. Oh, the horror ...

And then came the actual exercise routine in the pool. Walking forwards, backwards, sidewards, frog marching and knees up Mother Brown - all designed to get my knee to listen to the intent of my mind. Sloooooowwwww ... After an hour in the pool where I felt that I had not worked out because I hadn't even broken into a sweat, I heaved my body from the water and took my first step back on Mother Earth to discover that an additional 100kg (at least!) had been added to my frame as I entered the world of gravity. Maybe the water exercises do work after all?

To Be or not To Be ...

... a muscle. That is the question.

Apparently most of the muscles that support my knees and lower back don't work. Not such a hot starting point for an aspiring Argus cyclist (yes - that IS the image I'm creating in my mind's eye). Simple starts yield amazing results and so the biokineticist has given me 3 simple start-up exercises to re-train the muscles-that-were to become the muscles-that-are:
ONE: stand on one leg at a time - if this gets easy close your eyes. Can you believe it? Apparently the little muscles that help to provide balance have been compromised due to my over-mothering of a knee prone to surgery. By not allowing my errant right knee to work properly it has enticed a whole range of balancing and support muscles to become marshmallows.

TWO: Lie on your back and lift your feet to touch your buttocks. After 20 of these bend your knee and and lift your upper leg off the bed. Sounds simple but the first 20 were murderously painful and I was left shaking like a jello ...

THREE: Sit upright with a straight leg in front of you, bend the foot out and lift the entire leg. This didn't go too badly.

WHY? I hear you ask ARE YOU DOING THIS? Two simple goals:
1. Finish the 109km Argus Cycle Tour - no matter how long it takes
2. Raise R50 000 in support of the work that we do through The Chaeli Campaign

And then there's a small matter of being pig-headed in the face of adversity and needing to accept a challenge head on ...

It's getting serious ...

I've been to gym several times and am even waking up at 04:30 (without the aid of the faithful alarm clock). I reckon getting up and going to gym beats staring aimlessly at the ceiling - the thought of not getting my knee to bend sufficiently to do the revolution required by a bicycle pedal is giving me sleepless nights. Knee surgery 3 years ago (and my consequent laziness) still has me dealing with a very stiff knee, which still has a steel pin embedded in it to ensure that I don't strip the entire ligament when I trip, slip and fall - which tends to happen with alarming frequency. Progress: I can now walk up steps one foot at a time instead of doing one step at a time with both feet hitting the step (kadoonk, kadoonk). I celebrate every small victory ...

Let me briefly sketch my 1st attempt to re-introduce my backside to a bike seat. It was a rainy Thursday afternoon and Russell convinced me that I should get out on the brand new Giant Mountain Bike which he had bought for me in honour of this historic (2nd!) attempt at conquering the Argus Tour. For starters I found it very hard to lift my stiff right leg over the saddle/cross bar and it's impossible to do this from the left side - I'm right-handed, and it just doesn't 'feel' right, after all! At this stage Erin and Chaeli are still trying to be polite and are hiding smiles behind their hands - supportively shouting encouragement. I eventually put the bike down on the ground, straddle it while it submits to my obvious superior strength, and lift it into the conventional 'ready' position. I'm wearing the aerodynamically streamlined helmet, feel totally in charge with the cycling gloves with the cute peep-finger effect and decide to forego the water bottle as this will be my 1st trip out on the road on my new steed - and it's going to be a short one. Much shorter than anticipated, I'm afraid ...

Having successfully mounted the bike, I stagger/wheel it off the verandah as Russell sweeps towards our gate, ready to lead me on the adventure that is cycling. Not having been on a bike since the summer of '91 when I last did the Argus, I feel a little insecure lifting my ample buttocks onto the seat and gingerly place my feet on the pedals - ready for action! The horror of finding out that my gammy right knee does not bend enough to make not even ONE single revolution required by being attached to the pedal dwindles into insignificance as I try to eject myself from the bike before I do irreparable damage to the offending joint (and the other body parts attached to the joint and the bike). By now, Chaeli is in danger of falling out of her wheelchair and Erin can scarcely breathe through the hysterical laughter.

It gives me joy to entertain my children with such mundane and ordinary examples of my physical prowess. And now, surely, you understand my problem ...

Having put it out there that the Argus is beckoning me I am determined to get my bum on a saddle as soon as possible. Later today I have my 1st meeting with the Biokineticist, who has already mooted emulating the cycling motion in the pool. Big white body, small black cozzie, lumo orange headgear. I can't wait ...

18 years and 18 kgs later ...

3 September 2009
I remember it well ... March 1991 and the perfect conditions for my 1st Cape Argus Pick n Pay Cycle Tour. I was 30 years old, playing hockey (and pretty fit, I'd say), had done one 10km practice ride on a bike I'd borrowed from my brother-in-law and I was as keen as mustard! I walked up Chappies, admired the view from the top for a good few minutes, walked up Suikerbos and still managed to finish in 5 hrs and 1 min. Ahh, the golden memory of that moment ...

And then there's the here and the now. I'm pushing 48 years of age, pushing considerably more kilograms in the midriff and buttocks areas than 18 years ago, and ... wait for it ... signed up to do my 2nd Argus Cycle Tour on 14 March 2010. "Why?" you may well ask. Mad. Mad. Mad ....

I had my ailing gallbladder removed a month ago and this has shocked me into a realisation that my overweight, exercise-free existence is slowly killing me, and there HAS to be more to life than I'm affording myself. So, I have joined up as the 1st 2010 Chaeli Rider, using my hours on the tarmac to complete the 109km course on 14 March 2010 to raise funds for The Chaeli Campaign. This organisation was started 5 years ago by my daughters, Chaeli & Erin, and their lifelong friends (Tarryn, Justine and Cheslea Terry) to get a motorised wheelchair for Chaeli (check out http://www.chaelicampaign.co.za/ for more info). And now it's MY turn to let my wheels do the talking!

This blog is an attempt to document the epic struggle to get fit, lose weight and raise funds to make a difference in the lives of children with disabilities across South Africa. 7 months ... hmmm ... And when you think that I can't even bend my knee (result of knee surgery 3 years ago!) at this moment, I certainly have my work cut out . Follow my journey and share the hilarity of re-learning how to get onto a bicycle ('they' say you never forget how to ride a bicycle; 'they' lied!), finding a way of dismounting with a locked knee, and revisiting muscles that I'd forgotten existed in my body.

It's going to be an incredible journey - follow me ...