Gertsamtkunstwerk

Fitness update

I don't for a minute think that blogposts about exercise are the most thrilling blogposts , coming slightly below dreams although significantly above cat pictures.

However, because I started writing about my embracing of exercise, if I don't carry on, there will be readers thinking, yeah, we knew it,it would be a passing phase, she'd soon give up. So it acts as a motivation. There is also a part of me that hopes that maybe someone thinks 'bloody hell if that fat lazy cow can do it, there's no excuse for me'  and that would be a positive thing in itself. (If they then act on their thought!).

I am pleased to report that my weight is holding absolutely steady since the last time I reported it, which is two kilogrammes heavier than four months ago, and makes me more than twenty kilogrammes overweight. Yet several people have said stuff like "You're looking really well" or "You've lost so much weight". I patiently explain I have lost fat and built muscle. 

Jimmy going back to work full time plus not long after the clocks going back has rather stymied the excellent routine and mutual encouragement we had developed. It had been at least a couple of weeks since I got the bike out, lame excuses like it's cold, it's wet, it goes dark early,and the lamest of the lot...the best way to get the bikes out is to wheel them outside the front door of the shed, lock the shed from within, leave by the back door of the shed, lock the kitchen door, go to front door, put on outdoor shoes, go outside front door...at which point there is a risk, however slight, of the bike being nicked. So I decided to carry it through the house, which is a lot less hassle than unbolting and bolting the shed door.

On Saturday I went out to Tooting Common for an hour, and this glorious sunny and clear morning I cycled to the top of Brockwell Park and gazed for many miles across the skyline of London, soaking in the UV Rays of the sun.  Really, being out in the cold is no big deal presuming one is well wrapped up and gloved. The cold hits the face initially but that soon goes. Until you stop, then the chill breeze once again hits the face moistened by light sweat a ladylike glow.

I went swimming yesterday evening. I did six lengths to warm up and realised that in that five or so minutes I had effortlessly completed what represented a full session not very long ago. Oh heck, what do I do now? More lengths. One thing that I wonder about. As I get fitter and more muscular I find I am doing more lengths in a shorter time than it took to do fewer. So eg I can do a lot more in 20 minutes than I used to do in 30 minutes. Is it more important to up the number of lengths, in order to continue to do half an hour, or to have a target number of lengths in shrinking time period, or to increase the time and the intensity in the pool?

I picked up a leaflet from my Pharmacist which says being active on five or more days of the week - 30 minutes for general health benefits and 60 minutes to 'help you lose weight and stop the weight going back on'.  Then it categorises various activities - eg strolling  (light), cycling, 10-12 mph (moderate) or swimming, crawl (vigorous) but doesn't really say whether 60 minutes of 'light' is equivalent to 30 minutes of 'vigorous' or whatever.

And I also don't like that constant use of the word 'weight'. I don't give a damn what I weigh; if I did I would have collapsed disheartened in tears and given up disillusioned by now. I am far more interested in waist measurement, and hip-to-waist ratio (and would be even more interested if I could actually locate my waist). This is known in everyday parlance as dress size.  Above my navel I have the beginnings of a muscular and well-defined six-pack; below my navel I have a bloated gut that is not a pretty sight and can only be disguised by my droopy breasts hanging down (that last bit is a joke, my boobs are very pert thank you). 

It's not just a theoretical moan with me.

I am absolutely and totally not losing any weight whatsoever, yet I am measurably fitter and clearly less fat than I was four months ago. If I was on some supervised programme, be it Fat Fighters or the NHS, I would be weighed in the balance and found lacking, or rather, found not lacking, but would be judged a failure.

I'm strong, energetic, high self-esteem, high level of knowledge and therefore don't give a shit, but if I were different, I would probably by now have embarked on some lunatic diet contradictory to basic science, would be feeling totally miserable, and would soon fall off the diet, and with the damage done to my metabolism and Christmas looming, I would balloon up by another five kilogrammes or more, or at least a dress size, which would make me more depressed, so launch me onto another faddy diet, doomed to fail, which would notch my fat levels up higher whilst stripping away my muscle.

Surely a major contributory factor to the 'obesity epidemic' is  the cynical marketing of and profiteering from stupid damaging diets that screw-up people's bodies. One of the (many) evils of unfettered capitalism.

But what excuse the NHS has, I don't know. Although, significantly, their Change4Life website, about tackling childhood obesity, does not use the word 'weight' once but does say 

There is a clear link between having too much fat in your body and preventable illnesses like diabetes, coronary heart disease, cancer and depression.

Which is gratifying. But the Department of Health has a strategy called Healthy Weight, Healthy Lives which does not seem at all helpful. And their PSA target is defined by weight. Sigh. It should be fat. Fat. Fat not weight.

Contes D'Hoffmann at Covent Garden, last week

I am getting so rubbish at writing timely reviews of what I have seen. Oh well, considering I was pretty much in the vanguard of opera blogging , I kind of feel able to take more of a back seat nowadays. I started opera-blogging, really, when I went to see Contes D'Hoffmann at ROH in February 2004. 'Wow!' I exclaimed at the time. It wasn't long after that that I fell ill, and now I'm totally not ill (I have so much energy, especially nervous energy, I make Rolando Villazón look as calm and tranquil as a serene person). So that's like everything has come full circle and the only way is onwards and upwards.

Rolando! This was all about him, really. Otherwise, notwithstanding the luxury casting of the gorgeous Christine Rice as Giulietta, it would be a routine revival with a strong but not especially starry cast.

On the whole, I don't like other singers perform Plácido's roles in productions created for Plácido, but I really will make an exception for Rolando in this Contes D'Hoffmann. He really was superb. I have read numerous critiques of the very same performance I attended, one of the few advantages of going to the first night, and I broadly concur with a lot of what they say. I agree that he sang gloriously, gorgeously; I agree that he was completely committed and convincing in the role - that wasn't Rolando, that was ETA Hoffmann. I disagree with the comments that he was underpowered. I don't think anyone expects Rolando to belt out and raise the rafters, heaven forfend that he does. I was in a reasonable seat, admittedly one with no obvious acoustic disadvantage, and a full unobstructed view of the stage, albeit a somewhat distant one not helped by having left my binoculars in my office (Row J of the Amphi, just about dead centre).  I had no trouble whatsoever hearing him, and not once did I consider him to be under-powered.

There was a point in the first Don Carlo I saw this summer where I wondered whether I had made a mistake, whether my intense love for Rolando as a singer and an actor was the misjudgement of a neophyte, sustained by my discovery that he is a very warm, fun, intelligent  and attractive person. I then remembered an awesome Lensky, a tremendous Duke of Mantua (twice), several gorgeous CDs and DVDs. Then I went to another Don Carlo and doubts were washed from my mind. Even so, I did tell him I was looking forward to Hoffmann, and I know I was right. Much more suited to his voice than Don Carlo, and, frankly, a far better production for displaying his wonderful stage presence. My major - sole - criticism of him was that in the Venice scene, he did seem to lack the steamy sexually-charged passion of his illustrious predecessor in this role. But, really, that's quibbling.

I have a very personal attachment to this opera, although I cannot in all honesty call it first-rate. Some of the bits go on too long. The Prologue is an age before Hoffmann enters. I did fear there would be applause of the entrance of the star, as was witnessed at and reported from several performances of Matilde de Shabran. Fortunately this vulgarity does not infect fans of Rolando (Villazónistas?). I find the Antonia scene a bore. I am in the minority in thinking that Antonia should come after Giulietta. My argument is that he moves from a mechanical doll to a courtesan to real love of a real woman. I do understand that there is an argument in the score for Giulietta to come after Antonia, although I presume if that is the case, we get the orchestra playing the Barcarolle before Antonia, then it being the dominant tune of Giulietta. However, if Antonia did come first, it would mean that the best act, Giulietta, would still be to look forward to.

Yeah, the Venice act is my favourite, and on this occasion it was further enhanced by Christine Rice as Giulietta being in a league above the other two, especially Katie van Hooting as Antonia, but also Ekaterina Lekhina who was fine but not outstanding as Olympia. When I saw it five years ago I was well impressed by the gondolas sliding by; now much more jaded, it was just another stage effect - sometimes it would be nice to return to being innocent and impressionable.

I have to say that Gidon Saks was a bit of a let down as the villains, but demonstrably better than Wilard White last ttimeI saw it.  Of the various minor roles, I thought Ji-Man Park, a Jette Parker Young artist was the most impressive, in the role I think of as Robin Leggate's in the DVD. And I enjoyed Robin Leggate as Spalanzani, 28 years after creating Nathanael in this production.  The band under Tony Pappano played fine, although I would concur that there was no great sense of an overall arch to the interpretation.

I thought that I was cursed with the seat mate from hell. He and his wife were talkers. Actually, I think he was the overbearing sort who had spent the last 50 years ordering around his cowed wife, and she was therefore not able to understand or enjoy the performance without him explaining it to her. Before the curtain rose - and crucially before Tony arrived in the pit - a woman had arrived to our row. Last minute but not late, the house lights were still up. She did the usual "excuse me thank you excuse me thank you" and he barked at her "You've come in the wrong side". She hadn't.

As he and his wife talked through the Kleinzach aria - can you believe it? - I shushed them twice. That didn't stop the talking, so in the applause I hissed at them "If you don't shut up talking I'll get you thrown out of the opera house; I'm here to hear the music, not you." That more or less did the trick, but unfortunately didn't stop him moving his binoculars up and down in a constant steady rhythm, up down up down up down in time to the beat, generally rubbing my arm but occasionally my breast and sometimes positioning his elbow in my ribcage.

Meanwhile, some friends and a random other had ended up with four adjacent seats, two to one side of random other and the  third to the other side. He was not a slender man and fell asleep in the third bar, one hand on one friend's thigh and the other on the other's ribcage. He smelt and snored. They found this unbearable and managed to get moved to a very expensive box, which afforded much leg room and crucially freed them from Fat Fally-Asleep Smelly Man, but they only had a view of half the stage (which suggests very poor VFM for a very expensive box) and missed quite a lot of the action. Meanwhile my seat-neighbour began to smell towards the end of Act II and deteriorated rapidly during Act III and the Epilogue.

And then I found getting home to be difficult.

I did change out of heels for the homeward journey but my feet were still a bit achey. Plus it was late because of  pub and post-pub nattering. During the day I had discovered by chance that Clapham Common station was closed (thanks for the email, Boris - oh you didn't, never mind, I'm sure you don't give a toss about lone women getting home late at night), but I did discover that the Victoria Line no longer closes early (I was looking to see whether it would be open because of Arsenal being at home).

I decided to go to Brixton and hobbled several hundred yards  to the makeshift replacement stop for the one Outside the Tube which is closed. I got my special bus which goes round the corner, only to find it terminating short because there is currently no right turn from the major A23 into the strategically important South Circular Road. That was another hobble with sore feet and thanks given to the goddess of changing into sensible shoes. That was impressive - four separate pieces of infrastructure renewal (including early closing of Covent Garden station) complicated my journey home. Naturally I fully support infrastructure improvement, but, sometimes, I just want to travel on auto-pilot and be delivered easily to just outside my door.