Thanks, kids

At last...

It's taken 8 gym sessions (is that all? Really? It seems much more) but I've worked out how to defeat the Smiling Assassin.

No, it's not a crafty choccie biscuit in the staff room, nor is it a rippling-muscled torso of a man on the free weights.

What really takes her attention away is one of the little people. Kids. Children, Bambinos. Infants.

She was all of a flutter on Monday morning when I'd collapsed in a heap on the rower after lasting the requisite 10 minutes. She had some new gym buddies coming in at 10.30am - a class of reception pupils.
They had asked to see how the machines worked as they were working on this in class.

She was upbeat. I was still sweating and trying to down just a little bit of water in my 'active rest' period inbetween some hideous contortions on the TRX thingy.

And then it happened - 10am came around and I was just drawing in what felt like my final breath when another fit gym type came round the corner with the news (slipping on my sweat and carefully stepping over my now-dehydrated body on the floor).

"The kids are here."

Smiling Assassin looked up. She smiled (even though she's called the SA, she rarely smiles now after that euphoric first week when she couldn't stop smiling, or rather laughing). She looked at me.

Magnanimous, I thought. Magnanimous will work.

"Look, why don't you go and be with the little people - they need you more than me and you can't have them running around because of health and safety issues," I stuttered.

Kerching!

The combination of the frustrated teacher / health and safety worked a treat. And off she trotted after I promised to do the 50 more TRX exercise thingies (pulling and pushing some long straps inbetween my hands and generally looking like I'm trapped in a spider's web).

I placed myself strategically around the Abbeycroft Leisure facilities as she showed the little people round. And it worked a treat...I had a lovely relaxing session after that - able to both breathe and take on board water. Result.

"This is Barry - he's going slowly on the rower because he's old and probably looks like one of your great grand-dads," she laughed, encouraging me to rip a muscle in my wrist as I went as fast as I could to show off.

So, teachers of West Suffolk: Please feel free to let me know if your class would like to pop round the gym area and I'll happily slot you in during my weekly session. Ask for Helen. She'll be delighted. So will I...

Getting competitive

Make a note - the It's A Bury Knockout takes place on Hardwick Heath on Sunday, July 14.

It's a great day out and you'll have great fun - I reckon Smiling Assassin is entering in an Abbeycroft Leisure side so you'll see what I've had to endure all these weeks.

All funds from the day will go to the Bury Free Press Beat It! appeal, so please support it.

The real competition, however, takes place a few weeks before July 14. I'll be at peak fitness by then so I've hit on the idea of an It's A Barry Knockout. No, Smiling Assassin isn't going to sock me with a pair of boxing gloves (though heaven knows, I'm sure she'd like to). No, this is about me and she competing over a few easy events to see who gets bragging rights for the remainder of the year. It's like Man U vs Man City, Spurs v Arsenal, Editor v Assassin.

The good thing is - I get to choose the events.

Now, I'm okay at chess (I know the Najdorf Variation and the Sicilian Defence). I can pretty much defeat allcomers at Mariokart on the Nintendo64. And I'm a whizz when it comes to juggling. But I'm thinking Smiling Assassin might expect something a little more strenuous.

So, I propose three of the following:

- A gym row-off (2,000m, fastest wins);

- A 50m race in the Abbeycroft Leisure pool;

- 100m sprint on the Abbeycroft track (that's me celebrating above - I'm built for speed not endurance after all);

- A game of squash;

- 9 holes of golf.

Over to you Smiling Assassin - you get to pick.

I'll confirm the details next week.

Meantime, check out the real It's A Bury Knockout here http://www.buryknockout.com/

Sorry, officer

My first takeaway in ages went down a treat on Saturday night. Thank you Zen.

The trouble I had actually picking up the takeaway could have landed in a police cell though for public indecency.

Abbeygate Street was still gated off as we drove to the noodle bar - so we had to hovver outside The Angel and I ran down to Zen (well, walked very fast...Smiling Assassin hasn't let me loose on running yet though I can sort of remember doing it once as a teenager).

Halfway there, I noticed the temperature had dropped markedly...as had my jeans. I'd thrown an old pair on before rushing out the door and not really taken notice of their size.

They were at half mast - I checked behind before dragging them up and making sure I was decent before entering a crowded restaurant. Once in, I noticed a stray fiver on the floor near the counter but daren't bend down to pick it up in case I embarrassed myself (and put the diners off their noodles as my noddle broke free. I mouthed to the waitress to grab the cash and she did - while I kept my hands firmly in my pockets for added support.

I made a hasty retreat and got home without further incident. The jeans are now waiting for one of those charity clothes bags and I'm eyeing up a nice new pair for the summer.

Expensive process, this weight loss.

Please help me

I am losing my mind.

Today, Emma Lake (@BfpEmma for those of a Twitter persuasion) brought in a fab-looking cake. She's done the same for most of the last 3-4 weeks as she's taking part in the Great Suffolk Bake-off. She won the Bury round - the final in Ipswich is on Saturday.

Anyhow, I declined politely - only to be told by all and sundry that it was the best cake they had tasted.

Cheers team.

The those nice people at the arc Nando's called. They were delivering some lunchtime treats. Salds (with dressing), and chicken and stuff. Mmmm. But again, I declined. Everyone told me how nice it all was.

Cheers, team.

So I nipped to Boots. Among the lovely looking wraps and crisps was a lonely little cous cous salad. Not many calories - even less as I left off the dressing.

I also bought nuts, pulses, herbs and vegetables from Waitrose. Now, I am convinced I'm losing the plot.

Dear Smiling Assassin...I wish to complain about the brainwashing effect you are having on me. No crisps, no choccie, no alcohol and no biscuits or cake. That can't be good for a chap.

Dear Support Meeting...My name is Barry. I'm a veggie-holic.

The perfect 10

Somehow, it happened. Officially, I'm a double-digit loser.

Today was BodyStat (body statistics) check-in day and the one which sees me plugged into the mains for a few minutes while my hair stands on end. (Ok, it's not that serious, but you get the idea).

I've somehow lost a couple of percentage points in body fat and 8cms have gone from my waist. Not sure where these are - perhaps I lost them in the changing room.

BMI has also dropped a couple of points while the biggest recognisable figure is that big 10 - 10 kilos of weight shed (that's 22lbs in old money and just 6lbs short of my initial target).

Rather helpfully, Smiling Assassin (aka Helen Bye, personal trainer and sort-of good egg) also added in her best doctor's handwriting scrawl that I had 20kg still to lose (that's 3 stone). Thanks H.

Smiling Assassin was mostly on best behaviour today - introducing me to both the kettle bells and the kit bag. The kit bag is as it sounds - a heavy bag with straps which you flock up on to your arms and then back down). 

The kettle bells, however, have potential for major internal organ damage if you get the timing wrong. You swing them from between your legs (it's very elegant, as you can imagine) up to the point where your arms are pointing straight out in front of you. Repeat for 30 seconds. If you spot me holding one, stand well back for a few weeks until I get the hang of them.

The only thing which had really gone up noticeably on my BodyStat ("The truth about your body composition") was my age.

If you'd like to support my fund-raising via these gym sessions courtesy of the nice people at  Abbeycroft Leisure, pop on the web to www.justgiving.com/BfpEditor where you can donate to the Beat It appeal. We're trying to raise £55k to buy a cancer scanner to detect prostate problems early in young men - and save lives.

Please help - just helping one young man and his family will have made all the sweating (and shouting from the Smiling Assassin) worth it.

Thank you for your support so far!

Lent

This weekend will be a real hoot.

Mothering Sunday, teenage boys and the delight of a new BodyStat on Monday.

Mothering Sunday will be fine - "All I want is a fiver in my card". Job done. Card sent. Just the journey there and back.

Teenage boys? Bit more effort required. Lots of clearing up (how much toothpaste can one 18-year-old get through? Does he eat it?), lots of food to prepare and lots of shirts to iron (Yes, the hot, triangular thingy is called an iron...)

BodyStat is the one I'm dreading.

As Smiling Assassin re-emerged from her icky little bed this week, the looming BodyStat came to her mind.

"Have a good weekend" (so far so good, I thought) "...and don't eat or drink anything bad. It'll all show in the tests on Monday."

Aw, thanks. Friday night is crisps night. One big bag of ridge crisps. All mine. Goodbye to that treat then.

Saturday night is drinks night. Goodbye to that as well.

Monday means no breakfast, no tea or coffee 4 hours beforehand and just sips of water. Then its plug me into the mains, run a current through and see me light up and count the hairs which burn. Well, sort of.

It's pinch this, measure that, blow in here ... it's like a human MoT. Without the tyre change. Though I've got plenty of spare tyres in case they're needed.

So, hope you have a great weekend.

By the way, Smiling Assassin also managed to read my last post about her not being able to keep up with me. Now she's going to push me harder and make me weep (again).

I saw that nice fitness manager boss of hers, Matt Hickey, in the gym today and he asked how I was doing.

"Fine thanks, that Helen is a great instructor - you've taught her well," I said (through gritted teeth). I might have to drop him a confidential email if Monday proves too tough ( or worse still, Smiling Assassin tries to ban all crisps...)

Lightweight

When I started this fitness lark, I looked up to my personal trainer.

She was the pinnacle of fitness. My guru. Abbeycroft Leisure's version of Wonderwoman (without the Spandex).

This week, she showed a slight chink in that armour. She cried off Monday's #fitnotfat session. yes, she was very apologetic and made up some reason about being a little bit icky.

As I pulled and pushed on the TRX machine, the seated rower and sorted out my glutes (for glutes, read backside - I had to ask, too), I chuckled to myself in self-congratulation. I knew why she cancelled.

She can't keep up with me any more . . .

Now fitness ( or rather the lack of it) is like smoking/drinking/womanising (not sure I know everything about all of those, but I have experience of each). Admitting you have a problem is the first step on a long journey.

Come on, Smiling Assassin. Admit it ... that boxing session on Friday did you in, eh!

Busy, busy, busy

This week has been fairly eventful.
It started with a text on Sunday night to the Smiling Assassin which I was somewhat scared of sending.
We had 'enjoyed' a 24-hour bug and the Monday morning assault course/route march just didn't seem do-able.
I pleaded with her to let me cancel. She wasn't having any of it.
I promised to do crunches in the lavatory and sit-ups in bed. She relented...but I would have to go back again today for an extra special session.
Okay, I said, crying into my pillow...
Then there was that moment today, when I had the boxing gloves on and Smiling Assassin had the boxing pads on (which I have to whack until my hands go blue and my face goes pink) when I nearly missed...and socked her under the chin. 
Temptation is a dreadful thing.

-----------

Anyhow, the upshot of the bug has been great. No training, little eating and a further 1.5kg loss so I've now shed 20lbs (9kgs). I now use a notch on my belt which I thought was just there for decoration. 
And Smiling Assassin told me today I need to get some new gym kit as the stuff I have is too big.
OF COURSE IT IS! 
I'm eating like a snail (heck, I'd even eat one off the street if I saw one), exercising like an Olympic athlete and getting beaten up every week by someone who thinks exercise is fun.
I'll have a look at something over the weekend - but no mankinis, I promise.
   
------------

I also had a trip via here this week on a training trip to London.

Bury St Edmunds Rail Station

I love going by train. It's a magical form of travel and, I have to say, everything ran on time.

Ran being the operative word. I'm glad Smiling Assassin has had me on the treadmill and cross trainer - up and down those escalators and through the Underground took all my reserves of stamina.

North London gave me a view of the Emirates Stadium which I thought rather stunning.

If only the Gunners' football was living up to that stadium at present (I'm an unashamed Leeds United fan with the scarf to prove it).

The course? Well that was on Twitter and social networking in general. At least that's something I can do sitting down in the comfort of a nice chair. 

I'll flutter off now and post this on Twitter...

If you'd like to support my fund-raising and the reason for the weekly (sorry, daily...yep, Smiling Assassin has fallen for it when I tell her I go EVERY DAY) gym sessions with Abbeycroft Leisure, pop on the web to www.justgiving.com/BfpEditor where you can donate to the Beat It appeal. We're trying to raise £55k to buy a cancer scanner to detect prostate problems early in young men - and save lives.

Please help - if we can just stop one young man going through the very real horror of cancer and stop one family having to deal with some bad news, all the sweating will have been very worth it.

I've reached more than £200 (I'm putting in £2 for every pound I lose in weight) so thanks if you've supported me so far.