Robyn’s Nest

A trip to the occupation health department at work today has informed me of the following - my blood sugar and cholesterol level are excellent, meaning I have a balanced diet and I’m not diabetic. All good.

However, apparently I am a binge drinker whose BMI is teetering on the edge of “overweight”.

They were offering these screenings at work and I thought I may as well go along. I had no idea about cholesterol etc and whether mine was good or bad so it was interesting to find out, even if it did mean stabbing my finger and seeing blood.

Now, I don’t smoke, never have, and I do up to four hours of exercise a week. Excellent, said the nurse. What about alcohol consumption? I explained that it’s quite difficult to work it out on a weekly basis. I can easily go a fortnight without touching a drop and then consume three bottles of wine or equivalent on a night out. Hmmm, she said.

“I know it’s not the healthiest way to drink,” I blurted out, but it was too late. The “bad for your liver” speech had started. I know that this way of drinking isn’t good and that a glass of wine a day would be better for me. But I don’t always fancy a drink, especially not on a school night, and when I do go out or have a special event to attend I like to make the most of it.

“I’m sure as you get older you’ll binge drink less,” the nurse said. “Yes” I replied, “Because my hangovers are getting worse.”

Right, onto my BMI which is 25 apparently. Anything above this and you’re classed as overweight. I’m teetering on the edge apparently although I’m not convinced the BMI is a good measure of a healthy weight.

I don’t confess to being a skinny minnie but I don’t think anyone would class me as overweight either. I play a lot of sport, am tall and a size 12. Pretty normal really. But what BMIs fail to take into account is muscle.

A lot of my friends are athletic folk and therefore carry a bit more muscle than the Average Joe. But, as muscle weighs more than fat, this tends to have a negative impact on their BMI. A few of my friends have been classed as obese - which is just plain libellous in my view.

The nurse also asked me about stress management. I didn’t tell her about the mass of ex boyfriends buried under the patio but explained that my sporting activities took care of all that. This has definitely been proved by the six-week break I had when I rolled my ankle. Stress build up and anger was present on a daily basis. Friends will confirm this. And I defo put weight on during this time, adding to my inflated BMI

So, am I a well person? Generally yes, but I need to change my drinking habits (unlikely) and lose a bit of weight (possible, since I am reclaiming my fitness level after the ankle injury and have embarked on my campaign to get a body fit for beach exposure come June).

Today is the last day of March which means tomorrow will be April. No flies on me, eh! As much as I’m glad the clocks have gone forward and we’ll get lighter nights, I’m not looking foward to April; it’s gonna be a long month.

Why? Well, my dreaded CRT will be issued this Friday - the first essay/exam type thing as part of my CIPR Diploma and it means I need to pull my finger out and do some work. It means dedicating any free time I have to reading, studying, revising, researching - what ever you want to call it - so I actually know what I’m writing about.

This will be made increasingly difficult by the fact that three out of four Saturdays in April are taken up with work commitments. Well, the first one is my CIPR tutorial at the London Met Uni, then I have to interview some Naval pilots at a degree ceremony at The Barbican the following Saturday and then attend a degree ceremony in Torquay the Saturday after that. 

Add these work commitments and study/essay writing - I have less than a month to complete two essays and send them off - with the fact that I’ve launched my pre-summer fitness campaign and already I’m starting to loathe April.

If I want to look like a goddess on the beach this summer I need to start working on the old health and fitness routine now. I started this yesterday with a run (well, it was more like a long walk with a short run in the middle), a stint on the cross trainer and a few weights and sit-ups. I now have a huge blister on my heel and will no doubt hobble around the korfball court tonight.

So, April is gonna be a long month and one where fun things will have to take a backseat while I concentrate on work and study, with a bit of fitness in between. But it’s only one month and when May comes round it’ll be time to enjoy myself - or reward myself, even, for all my hard work.

A skipping rope’s a pretty danger-free toy you’d think. But no. This thing that little girls enjoy in the playground and boxers use as part of their training doesn’t come with instructions. Or a health warning. How tricky can it be to use a bit of rope with two handles?

So why is it that I find myself with a huge red welt on my arm - caused by a skipping rope?!It’s not that I spend my time playing hopscotch and kiss-catch etc, I just use a skipping rope in my bid to stay (or should I say get) fit. It’s a great fat burner apparently.

But last night I did myself an injury and it bloomin’ hurt. I didn’t let the the two burly guys I was training with see the sting-induced tears well up in my eyes but I did say a few words which weren’t very lady-like.

So watch out people. You may be abkle to take on the great outdoors, go a few rounds in a boxing ring or ski down mountains. But those skipping ropes? They’re dangerous, handle with care.