I don’t even need the alarm anymore. 6am and I’m up, ready for my run.
Realistically, 5k is as much as I can manage midweek. There’s a laptop waiting, and then four kids to ferry to school.
At the weekends, I manage 10k, a milestone for someone who did everything they could to dodge PE at school.
My runs are more about headspace than fitness. They are my time out, a chance to listen to a podcast, a break from being ‘mum’ for the tiniest window.
In my late 40s, I know the importance of weights too, and I’m lucky enough to have made my way through the waitlist to secure a place in Ironwoman Fiona Foley’s 6.15am boot camp in Crosshaven. Twice a week she pushes us to our absolute limit — and we leave exhilarated.
On frosty mornings, or the days my husband is away for work and I can’t leave the kids, Lean with Lesley’s app — packed full of HIIT classes — is a brilliant backup.
6am runs might seem insane to some people. But not to someone like me, two decades on from a cancer diagnosis. I remember a time I could barely walk from the chemo ward — and I marvel at my body’s ability to bounce back.
Before I woke up in ICU two years ago, I had my yoga mat in my car 24/7. I loved yoga/pilates and began to crave my weekly spin classes. I wasn’t a gym bunny by any means, but I loved my body and, aside from a fondness for a few glasses of wine, I treated it relatively well.
In September 2021, I was admitted to hospital for what I thought was a routine laparoscopic cholecystectomy (gallbladder removal), but complications led to an emergency open surgery. After 48 hours in the ICU, a week in the hospital, physiotherapy and the removal of 50 staples across my 30cm scar, I was allowed home. It was then I lost track of my yoga mat.
“Avoid exercise for at least four to six weeks and limit strenuous activity for a few months,” was the advice from doctors. At first, I tried brisk walking, a brief return to yoga, and even a gym/weight programme to build strength, but each attempt ended in tears. I felt guilty about putting my body under more strain and, in a way, I blamed it. All I could do without getting emotional was walk, so I did. Every lunchtime, I walked while on the phone with my mom.
Slowly but surely my confidence returned, and I joined a new gym, complete with a back-to-basics programme, which includes a variety of weights. The first few months were great, I felt strong but there are still times when recovery gets in the way. Instead of letting it step me back, I simply change the programme and step up on the treadmill instead. Any movement is better than no movement at all. I now don’t blame my body. I celebrate it. I’ve even bought a new yoga mat.
Any time I decide to embrace a ‘New Year, New Me’ lifestyle it falls flat sometime around Women’s Little Christmas because I can’t commit to a massive overhaul in one fell swoop.
Many people manage a trip to the gym every day but realistically once I’ve worked five days a week, walked the dog daily, cooked my dinner, and found time to catch up with family and friends, I feel I’ve run out of hours. Instead, I now commit to just one hour a week with pilates classes in my local gym, and it’s paying off.
Dennehy’s Health and Fitness in Blackpool introduced pilates last March and, having been intrigued by its much-lauded spinal benefits for years, I signed up in an instant. I’d been a semi-regular attendee at yoga classes and enjoyed those for a good stretch and clearing my mind — it’s hard to stress the small stuff when you’re focused on not falling over.
From day one, I felt more of an impact from pilates than I ever did with yoga so I’m continuing my bitesize fitness schedule into 2024. I still find it great for my head (again, trying not to fall helps clear your thoughts) but the physical benefits have been huge. I get a more intensive workout — I realised this as I limped into the office the morning after my first class. I became more conscious of my posture, sitting taller and straighter in daily life. The little aches and pains from sitting at a desk faded away too, thanks to the improved muscles around my joints. Plus, our instructor Mel puts on a fun class so you don’t notice the moves getting more advanced quite as much.
You name a class, I’ve tried it. Spinning, salsa, step aerobics — I’ve even forked out for personal trainer sessions. I wanted to learn how to use the weights in the gym properly. It didn’t last.
But we’re warned it’s imperative that women over the age of 40 do some kind of weight-training programme in conjunction with cardiovascular exercise. Because Mother Nature decides to fling our estrogen and calcium levels off a cliff and stall our metabolism, so bone density and obesity are hovering in our wrinkly shadows, waiting to pounce. Fun.
Weight training though, can help lower the risk of conditions, such as cardiovascular disease and osteoporosis. I’m basically one hip break away from a blue rinse and a Werther Originals addiction. Thanks a lot, gender.
The one class I loved on and off through the years (and three pregnancies) was Sackies Skalkos’s yoga class in Yoga Republic. So, when I heard he was starting a yoga weights class, I was ecstatic … and slightly terrified. There’s no doing things in halves with this dude.
Sackies is a Cork legend — and that’s saying something for a Greek guy. He set up his yoga studio on Douglas Street in 2004. Going to his class is like being part of a secret club, one where yoga isn’t all lapsing into a child’s pose whenever you feel like it. He demands you stay in poses, even as your muscles shake and the sweat trickles into your eyes. Our Tuesday evening practice is a mix of yoga (Sackies teaches a fast-flowing style called Kyma Vinyasa) and free weights.
That hour and a quarter is the best thing I do for myself every week. I’m stronger, I’m fitter, I’m more flexible and I’ve gotten so many brilliant nuggets of knowledge from the class. Podcast recommendations, recipes tips, book shares. It’s more than a class, I feel like I’m part of a community, one that can lift 15lbs while in a warrior one pose, imagining we’re in our 20s. Namaste.
Have you ever paid for swim sessions and found yourself ‘doing the maths’ while going up and down the lanes: ‘If I go once more then that’s just €100 per swim so if I go twice a week until summer I’ll have it down to €4 per swim, etc,’? That’s all very well until the kids’ gymnastics or soccer or basketball hours change or they have a party to go to and it’s my activity that gets sidelined and I end up resenting it for wasting money.
However, I did find a solution to this fitness versus time constraints problem. I signed my gang up for taekwondo. It was in a pretty cold hall — the other parents sitting and waiting were wrapping their children’s coats over their legs to keep warm for the hour. I had done taekwondo as a child and had enjoyed it so I started doing some of the warm-up exercises at the back of the hall just to keep my blood from freezing in my veins. The instructor was lovely and encouraged me to join in. While I wasn’t as fit or supple as my nine-year-old self, I found a lot of the instructions and movements coming back to me.
A few years on and other adults have joined the classes too. It is a martial art but the training sessions are absolutely not about injury or hurting people or yourself. On a weekly basis there’s far more balance and discipline and muscle memory than going head-to-head with an opponent. Of course, there are tournaments and competitions open to members who want to participate, but aekwondo is a winner for me.
A bad week at work in 2018 saw me clicking on a serendipitous ad for the Dublin Marathon. I’d just lost a lucrative work gig and figured ‘a project’ would cheer me up and make a welcome distraction. It took two months before I told anyone, even my husband, and another few months before I began training in earnest.
Having run the odd 10k for charity over the years I wasn’t exactly a runner, but I’d always enjoyed doing infrequent 5ks for exercise.
That May I downloaded a 20-week beginner’s marathon programme and followed it religiously, building up my kilometers each week. I still remember the fear I had going out to do my first 13km run. It seemed like such a distance to me back then.
I was nervous about failure, so didn’t tell many people about my endeavours until I had my first half marathon under my belt. Running 21km without stopping was the confidence I needed to spur me on. Crossing the Dublin finishing line in October 2019 was a highlight of my life. I trained on my own, ran it on my own, and despite a badly sprained ankle two weeks out, and malfunctioning audio and pacing app on the day, things went almost to plan.
Having sworn that I’d never run another marathon in my life, I signed straight back up for the next year. The euphoria and sense of achievement felt like nothing else I’d ever experienced. The pandemic meant the next Dublin marathon wouldn’t be until 2022; I didn’t train properly and finished slower than my first attempt.
I gave 2023 a miss but Aisling Gannon, my running buddy, has inspired me to get back out there again. Running with her and extended friends has seen me sign back up for the 2024 race. I’m going to run it solo though. I’ve got unfinished business with that clock, and can’t wait to earn that high all over again.
I needed some inspiration for exercise after I hurt my calf skiing so when I heard there was a new boxing class at my local gym I jumped at the chance to inquire about what that involved. Suffice to say that day one was a complete write-off. I had muscle pain in places I never knew I even had muscles. Happily, I didn’t suffer alone as my husband came along and took part too. Many boxing sequences involve having a partner, so we took turns swapping over the boxing pads or ducking as the other one swiped.
What I love about this class is that it is about fitness and building on your upper body strength but it’s also a great stress buster. We also have great fun together, collapsing into a sweaty heap at the café afterwards, exhausted but buzzing, with that high that only comes from vigorous exercise. Within a few weeks, my arms were stronger, and now that my calf has improved, I can step things up with my footwork.
For those thinking of taking up boxing, do not underestimate how much of a full-body workout it can be. We’ve never gone into the ring yet. For now, it’s about boxing mainly against punchbags, doing sequences, and working against the pads. I was surprised by how many other women in their 40s were in the class. It’s also a great way to relieve any tension you may have built up during the week.
I now attend my class twice a week. It’s an hour of (exhausted) joy where I think about absolutely nothing while building my fitness. I hope to continue it throughout the year and have even signed up for a charity match later in the summer.
I’ve never been a sporty person. As a child, I was always picked last for the football team, and my secondary school habits included trying to find a way to get out of PE and fully embracing the bookish nerd stereotype. I enjoyed ballet and swim classes pre-puberty, but as body insecurities heightened with every passing year, I gradually ditched these, not wanting to be seen in a leotard/swimming costume.
For a long time, I thought not enjoying team sports equalled not enjoying exercise, so I avoided joining any college society that tried to pitch hillwalking, kayaking, cycling, or any other such pursuit as ‘fun’. But as my birthdays started creeping into my early 20s, so too did my understanding of the importance of exercise and I tried to force myself to go to the gym, at various stages trying everything from group classes to personal training sessions, without anything sticking.
Then, in October, a friend shared a link to a spin studio that was doing a special Taylor Swift class to coincide with the release of her latest album.
Pitching itself as a ‘body-affirming indoor cycling studio’ some of the policies at echelon on Dublin’s D’Olier Street include no diet talk and no weight-loss talk. ‘All bodies, in all their diversity of size, shape, fitness level, race, ethnicity, sexuality, gender and age are welcome,’ the studio says.
I think part of the reason all previous attempts to become a person who exercises regularly have failed is because I’ve been too ashamed of where I was starting. Shame about my lack of fitness, shame about how my body looked, shame about not already knowing how to do a deadlift or a push-up. But from the moment I stepped foot in echelon, in a dark studio where nobody could see me struggle and sweat, I felt comfortable enough to give it my all. In the weeks since, I’ve stuck at it, feeling myself get stronger, and most shockingly of all, actually look forward to the class.
Choreographer Tina Horan is a uniquely gifted teacher, encouraging her students to move to their own beat and within their limits. Given her kind, inclusive approach, you can never put a foot wrong.
Given the constant stream of good vibes, I was hooked from the first class in the ’90s.
The Tuesday evening class in Cork city centre starts with a free-flow dance warmup, followed by a jazz/ballet workout, across-the-floor work — I’m still working on spotting technique for my turns — and on to the choreographed dance piece where we often work in pairs
It’s so not about going for the burn, but more about going with the flow.
Carefully curated music, designed to lift spirits and connect with the heart, is central to the experience and never fails to lift my spirits.
There’s something transformative about parking your worries and following simple dance instructions with a group for an hour.
I stopped the classes when my children arrived — it was one juggle too many. But when I returned more than a decade later, in the middle of the pandemic, I was welcomed by dancers who had attended the class for decades. Once you get into Tina’s happy slipstream, you’ll want to return over and over.