Week 32/2024: Returning to exercise
Week of 5 August 2024
Nerding and exercising
This was another quiet week.
I caught up with a friend on Saturday, and we went to an event at the Beaker Street festival. That was fun.
Returning to exercise
This week, we return to my disjointed account of attempting to navigate perimenopause in as supportive a way possible.
To set the scene, we need to go back three (yikes!) years when I first went to my doctor and told her I was trying to get my shit together and assemble a team of professionals who could give me the support I needed for my impending journey through perimenopuase. One area I knew I could do better was my physical health—in particular my strength.
(Something about bone density and osteoporosis and broken hips and walking frames . . . The Australian Menopause Centre has a good summary here.)
So my doctor suggested seeing an exercise physiologist. I had no idea what this was, but I think, knowing what I know now, it might be what I would have ended up doing, if I’d followed the path I thought I was on in Year 12.
(That’s a long story. Remind me to tell you about it some time.)
What’s an exercise physiologist then?
Exercise physiologists operate in the health and exercise space, working to develop tailored exercise programs that their clients can do to achieve their fitness goals within any limitations they might have. Such as sciatica, frozen shoulder, sore feet and dislike of exercise. You know, the standard stuff.
When I went in 2021, I failed spectacularly. Well, not even spectacularly, I just didn’t follow the program . . . and was too embarrassed to ever go back.
I’m running out of excuses . . .
As you may recall from the past couple of years, I’ve been beset by a range of injuries. With all that going on, I decided I couldn’t possibly embark on any exercise program because [insert terrible excuse here].
I guess it came to a crunch point once the perimenopause symptoms I wrote about recently started to kick in. My mind started giving me vivid pictures of myself as a frail old lady on a hospital bed with a broken hip. I don’t want this to be my future, and if it is, I don’t want it to be something I personally could have prevented.
Sore shoulder, foot and back or not, there are activities I can still do. I walked to the top of kunanyi, ffs. I am not completely immobile. The exercise physiologist’s job is to work with me to build a plan that takes these injuries into account, and, super importantly, includes activities I’ll actually do. It will also be something I won’t hate, because if I hate it I’m definitely not going to do it.
With all that in mind, I made my way back to the gym on Tuesday to see Andrew the exercise physiologist. He was very understanding about my desertion, and was happy to see me back. After a long chat and some assessments (where he concluded I was actually stronger than I thought I was and probably wasn’t going to end up with osteoporosis any time soon), we worked up an initial program.
Hurrah.
The idea is to build things into what I’m already doing rather than giving me a bunch of new stuff that’s difficult to fit in. First up, this includes increasing my walking, continuing my Pilates classes, and adding in a couple of new exercises to the ones I do in the morning.
The biggest change will be to get back on the bike. I said I thought I could manage one ride to work each week and a couple of short rides during the week. But this is going to be a challenge . . .
Time for action
I’m going back in a month to check in and see what needs to be tweaked. In the mean time, it’s back to long Sunday morning walks.
Yay!
Week 32 summary
Habit tracker
- Walk 8,000 steps: 6/7 days
- Shut down at 9.00: 5/5 days
What was the best thing about this week?
Last week we lost our lovely Rhode Island Red, Ursula.
She was the oldest of our chickens and had been with us since 2014.
This week I got comfort from watching the others.
They give me so much joy.
What did I notice this week?
I saw plovers roaming the Parliament lawns in the dark on Wednesday. A couple of days later, the local paper ran a story about it being plover season.
Now you might be aware that plovers or, more correctly, masked lapwings, are one of my favourite birds.
Coming into plover season, what we need to know is these birds make their nests on the ground, without giving any fucks about whether anyone intends to come into the space. Then, when an unsuspecting person passes by the nest, often having no idea it’s there, the birds let them know in no uncertain terms that they’re getting too close. The wise passer-by knows it would be in their best interests to find another way to get to where they’re going, because plovers are known to swoop intruders who don’t get the message.
In the article, NRE Tas senior wildlife officer Robbie Gaffney tells us plovers often swoop from behind. However, unlike magpies, they don’t attack people with their beaks and will rarely make contact. (Rarely, not never.)
This being the case, and knowing they don’t want to kill you, the best course of action is to heed the warning and give them space. Once the babies—which are so cute—get older, the plovers chillax a bit.
You can find more about plovers here.
Bonus! What else did I notice?
The Spirit of Tasmania I was in town this week.
Here is the Spirit of Hobart vs the Spirit of Tasmania.
What did I learn this week?
A bezoar is a solid mass of undigested food that can form in your stomach and get stuck.
Delicious.
Thanks, Beaker Street, for this nugget of trivia.
What am I reading?
- The House that Joy Built by Holly Ringland
- The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley
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