The smell of summer

Hello my dear Londoners, the sun is out and summer is definitely on it's way. Time to kick off your shoes, roll up those sleeves and put on your sunnies. May the picnics in the parks and the drinks by the river bring you all much joy, laughter and happiness. Go out and make some memories. May Summer 2011 be your best yet!

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Happy warm sunshiny days, lovely people! Let the romance of summer begin.

Much love xx

Start strong {finish stronger}

This year, I started strong. I set out a list of my goals, I joined the gym {again}, I ordered my finances and I organised my house. I declared that this year was going to be my best yet.

All was going well until my body has decided that it would like to declare war...on itself. About 2 weeks ago now, I had that niggling sore throat that just didn't seem to want to go away. The usual hit of 1000mg of vitamin C powder just didn't seem to cut it this time. As the days dragged on, I realised that my body was in full blown combat with the dreaded cold. I tried every remedy under the sun, to no avail {countless packets of sudafed, strepsils & paracetamol were harmed in the process}

My attendance at the gym plummeted to an immediate standstill. As I bid a sad farewell to my much loved gym routine, I wondered how this 'holiday' from the gym would affect our relationship. Previously, a break like this had completely crippled my ability to get back to the gym regularly and with the same vigour that I started the year with, I could sense a break up was imminent. I found myself in very volatile territory. 

Added to this very emotional struggle of not being able to work out is the fact that I live with 5 other very energetic and health conscious exercise bunnies. Not a day goes by where I don't see countless pieces of lycra running past me in the hall enroute to or from a workout. And there I was, barely able to lift a tissue to blow my nose, dreaming of the day when I could wear my lycra again. I was so jealous of health. I wanted it back.

And if this wasn't bad enough, my fear of being sick on a weekend reared it's ugly head - 5 days on and this cold still had it's hold on me. As my sad eyes watched all of my flatmates get themselves all ready and beautiful to go out and celebrate this beautiful Spring weekend I knew my body had other plans. As I looked in the mirror all I could see were my puffy eyes, my red raw nose, the beginnings of a cold sore on my lip and yesterday's hair. An attractive picture of health right there. Back to bed for me.

Day 5 came and went. As did day 6, 7 and 8. The highlight of day 8 was that I could stand for periods of over 12 minutes without feeling light headed and needing to rest. Day 9 I saw breakthrough! Day 9 my hope was restored. The haze of desperation {and isolation} lifted and I could see the world clearly now.

I had a choice to make though. Would I let the past 9 days determine my next 9 days? Would I use the fact that I hadn't been able to go to the gym to convince myself that I didn't need to go or that it would be too hard?

So today, I grabbed my gym kit and put on my trainers. I decided that no matter how hard it was going to feel, I would get my feet back on that treadmill.
It was hard.

I started strong. I had a moment of weakness {well about 2 weeks worth} but I got back up and have decided to be committed to finishing strong - actually stronger!

Here's to the road back to health & happiness.

Much love xx
{promise i'm not contagious anymore}