A Deep Need for Heat

Deep Heat PatchDeep Heat sent me a selection of warming (and cooling) patches to trial and this weekend resulted in more than enough sore muscles to ease.

My motivation has a tendency to ebb more than it flows and so when I catch even the tiniest wave of sporting enthusiasm I’ve been doing my best to ride it. This weekend it meant cramming a weeks worth of exercise into 1 day.

Saturday started with BMF, so we were in the park by 9:30 shivering in a huddle as our Sergeant Major determined exactly how he was going to go about rubbing our faces in the mud. He opted for plank splits and monkey crawling up a sodden bank, interspersed with shuttle runs and partner shoving.

After a quick break for brunch I was off again for my final session of Olympic Weightlifting, wondering how the earlier military battering was going to interfere with my weighted squat performance.

I was noticeably wobbly from the start but after 90 mins of snatch and clean training I was ready to plonk myself on the floor and await a teleportation device. Unfortunately I still have a couple of 100k walks to train for so I had to forego any offers of space/time travel and actually walk home.

What a drag. Have I mentioned before that I find walking so incredibly tedious and mind numbingly dull? If it wasn’t for the invention of audiobooks I’d stand no chance. This week I’m listening to The Farm by Tom Rob Smith and it is sufficiently gripping to offer some pleasure with each passing mile.

Needless to say, when I woke up on Sunday there was no part of me that wouldn’t welcome the application of a Deep Heat patch. I’m hoping to keep a couple spare as light relief on the London2Brighton walk so wasn’t prepared to blow them all this weekend. I therefore wondered around for a couple of hours trying to decide which bit of me hurt the most.

I decided my deltoids were in greatest need and attempted to apply a medium patch. It didn’t want to curl very neatly around my shoulder so I whipped it off and slapped it on my ample quad. The off and on again application won’t have helped its adhesive powers but it seemed fairly secure despite a little peeling at the edges.

I then went about my day, hobbling and moaning every time I moved, making sure everyone was aware that I’d had a pretty tough weekend. Despite the melodrama I also managed a few hours on the allotment, performing light planting and sowing duties and the patch remained intact. In fact the patch stayed on for a good 10 hours, delivering a gentle warmth until I went out for a very unsuccessful jog/walk/crawl around the block. At the 2k mark I could feel the patch slipping as all the warm beads sunk downwards. At 2.5k the patch shot out from the bottom of my trousers and I had to retrieve it from the gutter.

I think thats a pretty successful test. The pack claims 8 hours of warmth and my patch remained in-situ for around 10 hours and was still giving off a faint afterglow even from the gutter. It was a bonus that I didn’t have to rip it and half a layer of epidermis from my thigh.

Product details:

Deep Heat Patch

Deep Heat Patch provides effective, warming relief from muscular aches and pains, joint stiffness and backaches for up to eight hours. Each patch contains iron and activated charcoal. When the pack is opened, the air activates a heat generating reaction that produces a warming effect when the patch is applied to the skin. This local, superficial heat improves the circulation to the muscles, so reducing pain and stiffness. Each Deep Heat Patch is active for up to eight hours after the pack is opened, providing long-lasting, deep-relieving warmth. With no smell and no associated grease, the self-adhesive patches are easy to apply and convenient for use during the day.

RRP for a single Deep Heat Heat Patch is £2.07; Boots.com
RRP for a pack of four patches is £6.25. Boots.com

Almost a Sick Note

Recently, whenever I start to prepare for exercise I feel as though I am about to have a heart attack. It’s not extreme pain but does feel as though I have an elephant sitting on me or more precisely a belt tied tightly around my chest.

Today the plan was to attend an early morning BMF session, our first since xmas, and so Lynn was inclined to assume my groans were some form of psychosomatic / exercise avoidance attack.

The discomfort lasted right up to our arrival at the park and I very nearly got out of the group exercise torture. When I got out of the car and stretched it had disappeared though and I’d also determined that the new pain coincides with the precise moment I fasten my sports bra. So it’s probably an indication that my girth has expanded rather than a shrinking of my cardiac arteries.

British Military Fitness was a bit of shock to the system this week. We may as well have been first timers again, weeping silently as we did wide legged pressups into a muddy puddle. The only thing that keeps me going is the image of me as GI Jane. Almost there I think.

Wide Legged GI Jane Preesups

British Military Lightweights

Janathon is the beast that continually needs feeding. So despite it being a miserable wet day we felt that a gruelling session of British Military Fitness was in order. We arrived at the designated meeting spot, eager to get down and dirty with the crew.

Despite being two minutes early, it appeared that the BMF team were not there. Either still polishing off the last of the Christmas chocolates or avoiding the deluge.

I was quite sanguine about the wasted trip and quite happy to head back for a night in front of the fire, perhaps with a pyjama plank to show willing but Lynn had other ideas and suggested we brave the weather and take a quick jog around the common.

The observant among you will have noticed the odd use of the word “appeared” in the 2nd paragraph. After all, they either were there or they weren’t.

As it happened, they were.

Tooting Bec JanathonWe were just coming up to our first complete lap of Tooting Bec Common when I spotted a group of tabard wearing folk sitting in a huddle, doing sit-ups in the rain.

Lynn had forgotten her glasses so was pretty much reliant on me for navigation. As I had long since gone off the idea of doing press ups in the mud and refocused my mind on the pork joint slowly roasting in the oven, I took evasive action. Quick as a flash, I conjured an enormous puddle and suggested to Lynn that we take an unusually sharp left turn to avoid it (and coincidentally the British Military Fitness group).

I started the run thinking that BMF were the lightweights but it turns out that it was me and by association, we, that were the softies. It all counts for Janathon though and I’ve notched up another 4k for the beast.