Tag Archives: sport

Manufactured In The Gym

Since around this time last year I have had no gym membership. My time, despite efforts in keeping up ‘sort sort’ of a routine outside of a gym, have been entirely preoccupied in my family’s move, house and business set up in Portugal.

I knew it had to be like that. I knew I’d have to take the hit on something that I loved. And training in the gym is what I love.

A few things that I’ve kept in my head have been comforting though…

1. It’s not forever. I’m creating my own gym on the property.

2. I’ve trained 3-5 days a week for the past 27 years (even on my honeymoon). Taking a year out isn’t going to harm all of my good work.

3. I’m keeping calories to around 2,500 to 3000. I’m not counting. By now I just know what I’m eating, but using a calorie counter can be useful too.

4. I’m not sedentary. I’m probably more active than ever seeing as I’m working in the forest and doing building works. So my energy consumption, along with my energy intake, keeps my weight balanced.

But, despite knowing this, I am really missing training. That is because I am not getting the buzz (adrenaline) from the repetition of a lift or push that has become a part of me.

Creating my outdoor gym at 40°

At 18 I had to quit most sports that I enjoyed. Contact sports such as football, boxing and martial arts left my body in bits. And most of the pain came from my back or the sciatic nerve. The sharp pain that drives from the lower back into the buttock and down the leg made me struggle to even get dressed each morning. The anger that I had towards this pain and how it had practically ended my passion for playing sports affected me not just physically but mentally too.

Sports can give us ambition and focus on something positive. Especially for a young person trying to discover themselves. Joining a team, goal setting, planning and staying active weren’t on my radar anymore. Instead, smoking, drinking, clubbing and generally finding substances to enable me to continue clubbing into the wee hours became my focus.

‘When Saturday Comes’ is an expression to highlight the thrill of a football game. For me, my Saturday just became another chance to get into town and party. Now, don’t get me wrong, I have some great memories too! As George Best said,’ I spent a lot of money on booze, birds and fast cars. The rest I squandered .’ I didn’t have his fame or riches, but I gave it a bloody good go for a period of time!

That is until I found the gym. After a few months of training I noticed that my muscles were becoming firmer and I was filling out a T in all the right places. But something more significant was taking place. My back pain was slowly easing, I was quicker, more agile, stronger. And mentally I had a more positive outlook and I didn’t want a weekend of mistreating myself to hinder my hard work in the gym. I had found a lifeline. Furthermore, I had given my career a boost. My confidence grew and helped me to find a vocation which I enjoyed. Things started clicking into place. The gym, I believe, is what started it. My attitude to life was manufactured in the gym.

So then, you can see why it is so important to me. So much so I retrained as a PT some years later to spread the word. ‘How many people could I help?’ I thought. My aim was to just get people active and learn new, interesting exercises. I knew that for the most people that I trained in a commercial gym that strict programs weren’t entirely necessary. They just had to turn up and move to begin with. Push, pull, jump, skip, squat and run. Anything that got them excited about being there. And, no doubt, even for those who hated the gym, there was one aspect that interested them, be it a speed trial, a PB lift, calisthenics or a tyre flip. Something would trigger anyone’s adrenaline. It made me a decent PT because I was like anybody else. I wasn’t a bodybuilder or athlete. I just knew how the average gym goer operated. For me personally, anything heavy that I could push or pull got me out of bed in the morning. ‘How many reps at X weight can I do today?’ was my motivation.

And it will be again, albeit in a very different setting. But it can’t come soon enough. For how beautiful my surroundings are and how well our business preparations are going, I still don’t have a gym!

Drinking mojito in the outdoor kitchen at 40°

Euros 2024

One of my favourite memories as a kid is collecting the football Panini stickers. I never did fill an entire album up, but those in my collection were English football league, which always included the Scottish league as well (I was always disappointed when I got Willie Watters from Kilmarnock instead of Ian Rush) and then there were the World Cup and Euros editions.

The 1988 Euros was my first one but, for anybody my age, the Italia 90 World Cup sticker book was THE collection to have. Panini really stepped up for this particular collection but the event itself was also fantastic as there were so many great teams competing around that time. Brazil, West Germany, Italy, Argentina and the Netherlands all had incredible talent in their squad and, of course, England had Gazza.

Gazza stole the show, but David Platt’s sublime volley against Belgium was a highlight. It was the only match that I missed. For some reason, my school decided to have a parents evening that night. My parents wanted to watch the match too. I remember my mum quickly asking the music teacher if I ‘sang like a bird’ before making a swift exit to get home to see some of the game. We listened to the patrons shouts of anxiety come from the pubs as we walked past each one, so we knew it was a close game. I think, if memory serves, I got to see the goal in extra time.

As it is tradition, I got my two boys their very first sticker album for Russia 2018. Jonas especially has been hooked on football since and I sometimes still see him looking through the pages of his unfinished collection (does anyone ever complete the whole book?!) but as a parent I now realise that these little packets of stickers are an expensive do when your child wants a pack every time they pass a shop. 

And the quality isn’t what they used to be. The books aren’t as good somehow, the stickers aren’t as sticky and they don’t include the same facts as the ones I had. I don’t know why I needed to know the height of Toto Schillaci but the information was appreciated.

Jonas and Finlay still ask for Panini sticker albums for major events but they also want to collect Pokémon cards, Brawl Passes, Fortnite Skins and any other tat the shop sells by the tills. Where do we draw the line as parents?!

Anyway, the stickers for the Euro 2024 are also very popular in the Portuguese supermarkets. What information would Panini put on Trent Alexander Arnold’s sticker? Do they put him as a defender, a right back, a midfielder, a DM or an inverted full back? Nobody knows and, more worryingly, neither does Gareth Southgate.

Southgate seems like a great guy. I met him once. Well, I say I met him, but I actually drove past him on the motorway to Middlesbrough. And it might not surprise you that, despite his expensive range rover and my 1.2 Swift, I still managed to overtake him as he hogged the middle lane at 50 mph. True story.

And so then, his conservative approach to his coaching tactics doesn’t surprise me. He is very safe. But to continue the similarities between his motorway driving and his coaching, he might play it a little too safe but he has a knack of getting to his destination. Three years ago he led England to their first major final since 1966. And this year he is trundling along the middle lane in a souped up muscle machine as he gets to his destination. He might be grinding the Bellingham brakes and grinding the Gallagher gears but, I can’t deny, he’s still en route.

Apart from Italia 90, I don’t ever remember really ‘supporting’ an international team in a tournament. Of course I’d like to see England win, but I just don’t get as excited as watching Liverpool in club football. But now I’m living in Portugal, I can just imagine the festas if they were to win it! So England or Portugal for me.

Watching the games with Portuguese commentary has really helped me in learning the language. I’m not sure where phrases like ‘goal kick’, ‘two minutes to go’ or ‘they’ll have to check if that was ball to hand or hand to ball’ will get me in life, but it’s a start.

It’s the quarter finals next. The event has been a nice distraction from the work we have to do here so I’m really enjoying it. But I hope to see two things happen…for Ronaldo to start scoring and for Southgate to risk leaving the middle lane. It’s the only way either of them will see the final.

Happy Birthday Finlay

My two boys are very different. This is something that has always been apparent to me, but now they are developing their own unique personalities at ages 8 and 10, it is wonderful to see how brilliant yet very different they are to each other.

I was concerned when it came to Finlay’s interests. I just wasn’t sure what he wanted to do as an activity outside of school. Jonas was easy. He showed great running ability and ball control skills from when he could stand up! His love of football came during the 2018 World Cup when he was 4 and he seems to have a great knack of understanding most sports quite easily.

But, although Finlay played football, it almost seemed like he wanted to do it to please me or Jonas. As the younger sibling seeing the accolades that his older brother was getting, maybe he just wanted to do the same. I knew though that his heart wasn’t in it and I knew that he could find his own talents and interests elsewhere.

Finlay has got footballing talent, but it is very different to Jonas’. Jonas can take it past a few defenders with either foot and plant a goal in the top corner, but I never fancied him in a 50/50 challenge. After most games I would have to bite my tongue in asking him why it looked like he had bottled a tackle.

Finlay, however, I’d back against anyone in a 50/50. So much so, I’ve heard that Roy Keane has nightmares about coming up against Finlay. Legend has it that Vinnie Jones retired from football after hearing that Finlay was a twinkle in my eye all those years ago. And it just so happens that Diego Someone cancelled Finlay’s trials for Athletico Madrid because he didn’t want his players getting hurt. Even Chuck Norris refused an arm wrestle with Finlay.

Finlay is fearless in competition. I worried about the other kids when he did play football. If they dribbled past him they’d be on the floor, usually from a rugby tackle type bear hug. It didn’t matter how big the other kids were. My ankles would be bruised after a 30 minute kick about in the garden. The last time my ankles looked like that was after marking Dealer Dave from the Swan’s Head in 2002. Finlay is ruthless.

Finlay has shown excellent gymnastics ability. He can cartwheel, hold himself on the rings, balance beam and, probably after watching me, can plank and press up without cheating. In fact, his press ups are super impressive with perfect form. And this discipline has led him to another interest in martial arts.

When Jonas was a toddler it was pretty easy to play ‘tickle monster’ and play fight with him. He would just giggle and roll about. Finlay, however, would fight back. I mean ‘go for the knackers’ fight back. Headbutts, chops to the throat, anything to gain the upper hand on his old dad. Martial arts might just be his thing.

Finding a birthday present was made much easier then. We got him a punch bag and gloves. Lou was apprehensive at first but I have always believed that punch bags and being taught a martial art discipline is good for young people. Well, at any age! It teaches control, technique, following instructions and respect. It can channel anger and create self esteem in its participants.

Indeed, having worked with children in sports I know that, taught correctly and with the right message from a coach, any sport can have this impact and, knowing how a gym environment impacted my young self, once a person finds their happy place in a sporting environment it can be life changing. I knew it was time for Finlay to have a punch bag.

He is extremely happy with his birthday present and in the future we will be looking at him joining a dojo if it is what he wants. But for now he’ll have to settle for me teaching him, as I am Jonas with football. We’re still settling into our new life in Portugal and eager to set up our business to make an income. I can’t do the trips into town each evening until that is sorted. The boys are being patient.

So, happy birthday Finlay. You and Jonas are both wonderful boys. Keep doing what you’re doing.

Run Your Own Race

When you want to begin a personal fitness journey it is a totally natural thought process to consider what the person next to you is doing.

For the past few months, you might have heard Janice in the office talk about how much weight she’s lost at Slimming World and, naturally, you become intrigued about what recipes she is using and you peek over her shoulder at lunch break to see what’s in her lunch box.

In the gym you notice that the guy who usually trains when you’re there has bulked up a bit and he is filling in his T with some decent looking pecs these days. You’re only on nodding terms so you don’t ask outright how he has managed it, but you keep glancing over to see what he is pushing on the bench press or see what protein shake he’s drinking.

It becomes a slight obsession. I’ve driven myself insane before by observing the Hulk Hogan of the gym bicep curl a couple of 8k dumbbells while I’m trying to squeeze out the 20k’s to look like him and I’ve seen a guy much slender than me deadlift 200k without breaking sweat.

That’s when it doesn’t become my race anymore. And, whilst running this race, in watching how everyone else is running I’m tripping up.

I begin to change my pace and my breathing technique. I’m not looking at my own path, instead I’m trying to keep up with somebody on their path. I am not running my own race.

It was a quote from a football manager that inspired me to write this article. Without boring those who do not follow the English Premier League, I will keep this background story short.

Ange Postecoglou is the manager of Spurs. He was employed by them to at least qualify for the Champions League this season. However, in the penultimate game of the season, a number of Spurs fans wanted to lose a game and celebrated once they had lost. This is because it meant that the winning team, Manchester City, could overtake Spurs’ bitter rival Arsenal to have a greater chance of winning the league, resulting in Arsenal missing out! City ended up as Champions, Arsenal came runners up and Spurs missed out on a Champions League place, meaning that they only qualify for the less attractive Europa League competition.

Postecoglou was pissed off as he saw pockets of supporters in the stadium celebrate their own team conceding goals. And he even eluded to Spurs staff members being desperate enough to see Spurs lose and Arsenal miss out on the title. How far down the chain did it go?! Did the players on the pitch really want to lose also?!

After the game an angry Postecoglou said,”…we have got to worry about ourselves. Don’t worry about anyone else. If you run your own race then when you get to the finish line, have a look around and see where you finish…. don’t be obsessed with what anyone else is doing…you want to stop another club winning the trophy? Then win it yourselves!”

As human beings we can often get distracted by ‘keeping up with the Jones’. With their neatly mowed lawn, new 4×4 that they take their exceptionally behaved children to school in and their exotic holidays that they go on a few times a year.

But maybe we’re not seeing the debts that they’re in, how Mr and Mrs Jones hardly speak to each other and how their son is about to get expelled from school for selling weed to his mates.

But people will rarely let you see that side to them. Do you think that Janice in the office will share her most vulnerable side on Facebook such as moments before a ‘weigh in’ or when she can’t enjoy a meal out with friends because it doesn’t fit in with her ‘points’ for the day?

And the Hulk Hogan of the gym wants to show Instagram his changing room flex after a workout, but he’ll never film himself injecting steroids or standing in front of the mirror feeling ‘bloated’.

My eldest boy, Jonas, is facing exams this year. He is understandably nervous about this but his teachers and my wife and I are telling him not to worry. It’s his first exams in Portugal and it will be in Portuguese. This in itself is a massive thing to overcome but also he didn’t face exams in England. Apart from a spelling test perhaps, this is his first experience of being graded on what he has learnt. His classmates are more advanced. Not only are most of them older, but their first language is Portuguese. He cannot allow himself to be compared to what they might achieve in their exam results. Jonas, simply, has to run his own race.

So ‘running your own race’ isn’t just something to remember when embarking on a fitness journey. It can be a good reminder of how to be in other aspects of our lives too. After all, it’s the difference between a glitzy Tuesday night at the Bernabeu or a drizzly Thursday night in Aberdeen.

Rain For The Next 2 Weeks

Here in the UK it is tennis season. The time where people who have never held a tennis racket before put on their white cap and head off to their local council tennis courts.

Many of them are surprisingly well kept. As a kid there were many courts on East End Park and they were generally in good working order. A few torn nets and a bit of broken glass in places but it made for an interesting game. And they were in much better condition than where we all played football, seeing as we would use the old discarded glue bags and the dog turd as goal posts.

It might have helped that the tennis courts were close to the caretaker’s house, so any vandalism would have been heard by him. I say ‘him’, but we never saw anybody coming from the caretaker’s house. A big house that resembled the one out of the amativille movie. I would quicken up my walk as I walked past.

I was one of these people who would pick up a racket for a couple of weeks during July. It is, of course, the Wimbledon tennis tournament. I would be sure to be wearing my long white shorts and t-shirt in an attempt to look like my favourite player, Andre Agassi. He was the first player to wear long shorts while his opponents were still in very tight 1980’s short shorts. I wanted room for my tennis balls to move about, so I thought baggy shorts were sensible. Agassi had a bit of a rock n roll attitude about him on court too. I had a rock n roll attitude, but I was crap at tennis.

One thing you can be sure of in England is that as soon as Wimbledon starts, the rain starts. It remains warm and muggy in the evening but the weather likes to postpone tennis matches for a couple of weeks with its incessant rain. Problematic for an outdoor tournament played on grass.

And to think, just last week I put the tent up in the garden for the boys to sleep out and it was cracking the flags for a full week. Hopefully the sunshine will come back but if we want to be entertained by Cliff Richard singing in the stands then the rain is bound to stick around for a couple of weeks yet.

So where does this leave me? A sports lover for sure but I’ve not watched a tennis match since Tiger Tim got a semi.

My only option then is cricket, where England and Australia play a game for about a year for a tiny trophy.

Yes, I’m missing the football season, which is odd seeing as I spent the beginning of this year wanting the season to end. There wasn’t much to cheer about being a Liverpool fan. A right back moving into midfield was as exciting as it got for me.

And you can bet that Wimbledon will take over the whole of the BBC. So when the continuity announcer tells us that EastEnders will be shown at a later date, I’ll be screaming ‘You cannot be serious!’ at the TV screen.