Get Moving to Health Blog

Don't ask me why but last weekend was a bit of a blow-out!

I knew full well that Monday was D-Day as I had volunteered to be one of the independent judges on this year's Chronicle Get Moving to Health campaign - the Local Champions' Fit Club.

Now of course I could just turn up each week, watch the Dynamic Dozen go through their paces, see them tip the scales, award them their points for effort etc.. and then dash home for pudding and chips!

But could I really live with myself for that. Maybe some could but I picked up a bout of Captain Conscience (I think you catch it a bit like 'flu) and it's fitness and healthy eating all the way now for 10 weeks as we embark on the third year of Get Moving to Health.
But let's first turn the clock back to that Friday morning to where the aforementioned weekend blow-out.

One thing is for sure, here at Chronicle HQ, it is never easy being on a health kick on a Friday. You see, Canteen Kath does bacon butties on a Friday morning and the delicious aroma as you use the main stairs from editorial to front office has you gliding like the Bisto Kids of old (if you can remember them then you are 'of a certain age' or more).

So when I was asked if I was having my usual, the voice in my head was saying loud and clear ''No, it's start as we mean to go on - I'll just have a diet fruit bar.''

What actually came out was ''sod it, last chance saloon this Kath, stick an extra rasher on with brown sauce as I've a meeting at lunchtime and might not get chance to eat.''

Well, I can honestly report that that was one of the best bacon butties I have ever tasted. Probably in the same way that the steak and chips requested as the last meal of the condemned man tasted so good you could order it again next week... well maybe not!

So it was that the bacon butty set the standard for the weekend. Our regular Friday night 'couple of hours' in the local pub got extended when first one of our friends managed to get the afternoon off work and was therefore chomping at the bit for an early weekend livener.

And then two not-so-regulars but welcome additions to the squad came a touch later to the local in a taxi and seemed to have lost the capacity to dial the number to get home.

That combined with a landlord who was happy to convince certain members of our party that whatever o'clock it had now reached it was really still only tea time - and a couple of hours stretched into a marathon.

The excesses of the previous evening - and a heavy frost that ruled out any thoughts of a few holes of winter golf - meant that, aside from a slug-like trip to the tip, I did little but sit and watch the football scores.

Oh my god, it was though I was ticking off the indulgences on a bucket list.
Fatty foods (check), Alcohol binge (check), Nil exercise (check).

Come on Whaley, shake yourself out of it. This fitness programme starts now was the instruction arising on Sunday.

The weather and Christmas had meant it was four weeks since I had donned the trainers to run a coaching session for my not-so angelic bunch of 15 year old footballers and it was six weeks since they had kicked a ball in anger.

As if subconsciously knowing what pains I was going to inflict on my body that weekend, in midweek I had booked the lads a one-hour blowing away the cobwebs session on 3G Astroturf at Milnrow's Soccer Village.

The lads too looked like they had eaten all the mince pies as after 15 minutes of 7-a-side they looked like I was feeling ... very unfit.

After 30 minutes I took pity on them and some of the dads (and a very skilful pair of younger brothers) formed a makeshift team for a fun three-team mini tournament.

Suffice it to say that the parents won the day but the expression you never lose it is absolute bunkum. You do, big time. And while your brain is telling you where you should be and what you should be doing, your legs and feet don't actually belong to you and your heart is pounding somewhere just near your mouth.

The masterstroke was that the oldies got the 10-minute break between games.

So the weekend ended on a healthy, triumphant high and set the tone for meeting the 12 volunteers who will now be embarking on what could be a life-changing experience.

Note to diary: Avoid front stairs 9.30am-12 noon to avoid smell of bacon butties at all cost.

NEXT WEEK: Meeting the get Moving to Health Volunteers. 

What trials and tribulations have you found while attempting to get fit? Let us know in the comment box below