somajm

Thus I started weight training or strength training. It wasn’t easy. Firstly you have to know exactly what you are doing to convince others who confuse weight training with weight lifting. You have to start with the lowest weight. 1.5kg is reasonable enough. 10 minutes daily or 20 minutes on alternate days bring pretty good results . And here is the rest of it. STRENGTH TRAINING: A BEGINNER’S DIARY, PUBLISHED IN "WOMANS ERA" , 2004 (1,441 WORDS) Nearing forties is a bittersweet experience. The feeling that you are over the hill is so pervading that it is very easy to give in and give up to fate. Your sense of “Oh it’s all over” grows in proportion to your waist length. Your knees start making embarrassing clicking sounds to the world every time you change from sitting to the standing position. Your calf muscles protest by cramping when you revel in your usual early morning stretching. Your whole day becomes punctuated by “Oh I wish I could lie down for just a minute”. Menta...

Relationships have a tendency of descending into habits whether one likes it or not and then they become too difficult to break. And my relationship with Chennai was no different. Despite the fact that it was not at all love at first sight. Quite the contrary, in fact. It took me at least six months, excruciating ones, to get used to a place where there are only three seasons: hot, hotter and hottest. We landed in Chennai in the month of June. The very first place I visited was the tailor’s shop to chop off all my sleeves of all my garments. By 10 o’clock we would be jumping up and down with miserable perspiration rolling down our backs. Afternoon siesta became a thing of the past. The floor of the bathroom would be the only place of tolerable temperature. Besides the temperature, the other aspect of Chennai that makes Chennai what it is: aloof and mysterious, is its language. It is a juxtaposition of sounds, alien, to one not exposed to anything South Indian than the dosa. And the str...

My husband handed me something. “Your tickets for the Queen of hill stations”, he said. I looked down. “Oh Ooty,”I looked and felt disappointed. When families all across were on a ‘going abroad for a small holiday’ trip, Ooty was like falling down from a peak. .... From Chennai we were to travel to Mettupalayam, which would be a good 9 ½ hours. From there we were to board the narrow gauge ‘Toy train’. I was told it would be a novel experience for our seven-year-old son and us. It sure was. When we reached the station we found the train already packed. It was on first come first served basis. But our persistent efforts paid off in the end. We were bundled into a coach full of luggage. Another family like ours also managed to squeeze in. thus began our sojourn heavenwards with our feet failing to touch the ground. I cannot put down on paper the thrill of clutching onto something, more tangible than my husband’s hand, for safety with one hand whilst a finger of the other was pressed onto ...