Despite already being an avid gym goer/fitness fanatic/one of those annoying people who enjoys the gym, I made a pact that after moving over to the other side of the world I would become the fittest I have ever been. I know, pretty big statement, but I convinced myself that this would just simply happen, and I would be walking around like a lean ripped calorie burning machine within a week of arriving.
Now I’m not really sure why I put this huge pact over my head without thinking about possible mental battles I was going to have to face, after moving a loooong way away from my home comforts. However much it pains me to admit it, I guess I am a little bit of a homebird and this part of my heart kind of clashes with the opposing side which does love a bit of adventure – oh but then there is another piece of me that is a little bit risk averse. You get the picture. What I mean is, rather than moving and jumping straight back into my training but even more so than before, I arrived in NZ and whilst I was still training fairly every now and then, my routine and training plan went up the creek (obviously) and I found myself comfort munching on biscuits (NZ, home to arnotts mint slices and cookie time cookies) and all.of.the.carbs.
The more settled I started to feel in my new home, the more I was heading out and running around Hagley Park etc – my new fave, and I have found a real love for running which I NEVER thought I would say. This was also partly helped by J treating me to a brand new Garmin watch for my birthday which is now one of my favourite belongings (won’t bore you, but it tracks my workouts/runs/hikes etc, has HR monitor, GPS etc etc etc). Anyway, running started becoming a regular which was nice but I was still completely lacking routine with it all – and me without a routine=headless chicken even if I have no reason to be a chicken with no head.
After a month or so, I finally joined a gym (hallelujahhhhh) my safe haven and place to sweat all my worries away. But yes.. I still lacked routine. I did random runs, random workouts, random swims, random hikes but nothing set in stone. This bothered me massively but for some reason I still couldn’t quite give myself the kick up the butt to sort out my routine. I was also still enjoying bluebird crisps and burgers a little bit too much. For those of you who know me well, you know how much all of this would have been annoying me, even though it’s all totally down to myself.
My training kind of defines me. It makes me feel good, it gives me goals to aim for, gives me true satisfaction – hey that’s why I became a PT. But it has only been the past week that I have finally got into a routine and I’m back on track – both training and nutrition wise. Early morning workouts with swim days/run days is giving me great joy and encouraging me to get back on track with my eating during the day – I don’t even find this tricky once I’m in the swing of it, I absolutely love eating well.
This takes me to the point I really wanted to make with this post – I feel like before I moved here I already knew that a lot of fitness/training/working out comes purely from the mind – your body just follows. Despite knowing this, I was easily sucked into the body/mind battle once more. It’s reminded me that you must be good to yourself first – give your mind a work out, let it relax, let it feel all the emotions, don’t give it a hard time. Just don’t expect your body to follow until your mind is more settled.
The body achieves what the mind believes.