Every now and then I get the notion to wash my car by hand. However as it doesn’t happen very often that equates to taking it to one of those DIY car washes with the high pressure hose and soapy brush (ohhh I do like a soapy brush!) option.

So that was how I found myself, a couple of Sundays ago, pulling into a local garage forecourt with just such a machine. My pockets were heavy with old pound coins as I aligned the car, got out and wandered round to the machine. It’s pretty straightforward, a slot for the coins and various buttons to choose but I knew what I wanted! A nice soapy brush before a damn good high pressure hosing.

OK, that sounds a little overtly sexual. It’s really not. Honest. It’s more that I find any kind of manual labour quite satisfying in that weird way that those of us who spend their day at a desk working on a computer tend to, right? Right?? Anyway, I digress.

I plonked a couple of coins in the machine and pushed the soapy brush option and spent a few minutes scrubbing away. Despite not seeing much water coming through (a blockage perhaps?) I could easily see the dirt shifting and figured I’d blast it all off with the high pressure hose anyway, that’s the fun bit!

Beep beep beep, went the machine.

I put the rather disappointingly flaccid brush back in its holder, pushed some more coins in the slot and firmly grabbed the ridged handled of the high pressure hose. It struck me that perhaps I was projecting a little as I waved it around at crotch height and, given that I was in public, maybe I should grow up and finish washing my car…

So chastened, I started to hose the car down and watched as the soap that the brush must’ve deposited on the car started to foam up. By the time the machine beeped again the car was still covered in foam, so I popped another couple of quid into the machine so I could rinse the car off properly and get that wonderful sense of satisfaction as the sun catches on freshly scrubbed rims.

Back round the car I went with the high pressure hose, but to my bemusement, the foam was not abating! What the what?!

Beep beep beep, went the machine.

Fucksticks.

I looked at the car, watched the foam drip off the wing mirrors and slide down the windscreen. I cursed the brush for its inefficiency. It didn’t reply. I cursed myself for not just taking the car through a Car Wash. I cursed the foam as it dripped onto my shoe. I did reply but only in my head.

Reaching into my pocket I pulled out the last two pound coins, popped them in the machine and reached over to push the high pressure hose button one last time.

It was only then I spotted that there were two buttons with the little high pressure hose symbol next to them, differentiated with a little symbol next to each. One was of water, the other of bubbles…

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“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”

It was a chilly Wednesday evening. The clouds overhead muted the world to dull colours and greys.

I can remember driving their on the first night, the churning in the pit of my stomach, I was definitely nervous, I had ‘the fear’. I did my best to push those thoughts to one side but that’s not always easy when you’ve had a LOT of practice in self-sabotage by the What Ifs…

What if everyone else was fitter than me?
What if everyone else could do everything better than me?
What if I was the fattest/slowest/[insert negative trait here]?
What if…

But no. I stepped through the door and an hour later emerged into the evening light feeling tired but elated.

On the Thursday I was aware of the muscles I’d been using as they mildly complained with each movement. I hadn’t felt that for a while (and pretty sure I hadn’t ever felt some of them before at all).

But on Friday that changed. I was in pain. The kind of muscle pain that adds a … pause and a …. breath… prior to every movement. I felt it as soon as I woke and pondered just how the hell you get out of bed when you can’t physically sit up (roll and slide people, roll and slide). As I stood up I ached. As I walked to the bathroom, I ached. As I bent over the sink to brush my teeth, I ached. And that’s before the convoluted joy of getting dressed when you can’t physically lift your feet higher than about an inch off the floor.

This can’t be right, I thought. It shouldn’t be this painful, right?

Was it me? Had I pushed myself too hard? (probably) Or was it them, those dastardly trainers! Why had they inflicted this on me!?! What had I ever done to them? (aside from my usual sarcasm of course). With every sore step I could feel myself getting angry. Angry at the gym, at the stupid weights, at the trainers, at myself for living on a hill. Grrrrrrrrr.

Then a moment of clarity, and I remembered Master Yoda’s sage advice. I would not give in to fear, I would not let my anger build into hate, because hate leads to suffering and sweet mother of doughnuts I did NOT want the suffering to get any worse!!

And you know what, it worked! By the Friday evening I was largely ache free and moving around no longer required the …ohgodthisisgonnahurt… pause that was a large part of my morning. I even got off the bus a few stops early and walked home, just to stretch my legs!

Phew! I thought, that wasn’t so bad after all. I did not give into fear and my suffering diminished! Thank you, Master Yoda, for the wisdom. What a relief not to have that dull ache in my legs, and back, and arms…

Which is just as well, because the next morning, bright and breezy at 9am (ok ok, I was there at 9am, bright and breezy needs three coffees…) I was at it again and I’ve been repeating that pattern over the past 5 weeks.

No, I’m not sure who I am any more either.

Last night we hit the halfway mark of boot camp and I’ve loved every minute of it, even the minutes of agony as you push to do just one more rep of an exercise before the time runs out, even the feeling that there simply isn’t enough air in the world right now no matter how much I gasp and wheeze, even those moments of dread when you are reminded that no you aren’t finished you have one more set to do.

A large amount of credit for this has to go to our trainers, Andy and Juan for providing such a great, welcoming and positive environment, not to mention no small amount of encouragement. I can feel and see the differences already, and I’m looking ahead beyond the end of Boot Camp to see what’s next (another new development for me, I want MORE of this!).

One of the biggest things I’m going to take away from all of this is that the right kind of exercise is more important than just ‘any exercise’. I don’t mean the type of exercises we are doing, I mean finding something that you enjoy, something that makes the ‘go to the gym’ routine an easy part of your week, something that means you don’t mind Friday nights out being limited by a 9am start on Saturday mornings. Finding good people, a good place, and lo and behold you’ll FEEL GOOD about yourself. Rocket science it ain’t, but it’s so fundamental I think a lot of people overlook it.

At the start of Boot Camp we all wrote up our short and long term goals. For me the short (by end of Boot Camp) goal was to do 10 push ups. That’s 10 full, proper form, push ups. I’m not quite sure where I am on that goal – I’m deliberately not trying it until the end of Boot Camp – but it sure feels a lot more achievable now than it did 5 weeks ago when I couldn’t even do one.

Lived

Highlights

• Six by Nico
• New sofa arrived
• Bought a new car
• Hung out with a rock star
• Survived more Boot Camp and lost some weight

Stepcount: 285,483.

Read

Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee
I only read one book last month, and this was it. The choice of book club and it was largely uninspiring. There is some good writing, the dialogue is pretty snappy, but I just never felt a connection or interest in the main characters. If To Kill a Mockingbird was your favourite book I’m not sure if I’d recommend this or not. It might ruin it for you, or enrich the world the characters live in. Either way it wasn’t for me.

Watched

Highlight – Beauty and the Beast
I was wary when the remade The Jungle Book (my childhood fav) but given how well it was handled, I was looking forward to, and richly rewarded by, this remake of Beauty and the Beast. Sumptuous, clever, and nice updates on the songs and set pieces, it was at once familiar and new and I loved every second of it! A true musical feast.

Also good

• Midnight Special – finally caught this, right up my street. Slow burner, subtle direction and acting. Scene by scene some stellar performances. Michael Shannon remains a favourite. Highly recommended.
• Free Fire – ridiculously wonderful, a riot of set-pieces and violence when a gun deal goes sour.
• Guardians of the Galaxy Vol.2 – Liked this a lot. Was fun but possibly a little OTT and trying a little too hard?
• Iron Fist (Netflix) – YAWN. Could’ve been so much better but again the TV shows from Marvel are SO SO SLOW.

Listened

NOTHING NEW, need to change this!