Yesterday I surprised myself, I dusted off the old trainers and donned the trakky trousers and I went for a RUN!
Turn the clock back a year and there would be nothing strange at all in that statement at all. After all I ran every day of the week with maybe a day off on Sunday. Running was just something I did.
Well that was a year ago and what a difference a year makes!
I’ve had a year of non running and 3 months of that not walking either, been told I would be able to run, then been told there was doubt I ever would. I was scared to try. Putting on my running gear yesterday was a bit like getting on to a horse that you know has a reputation as a bucker, there is a strong possibility that you may well end up on the deck and it will hurt. Could I do this? Would it hurt?
Why the sudden descision to run again?
Well my weekend away really made me think. I so don’t want to put on any more weight and the thought of ending up obese and grotesque is seriously frightening. I don’t want to be a Big Woman, one that people look at and mutter about health issues and cringe when she tucks into food with that look of ‘No wonder she is that size when she eats like that’. I don’t want to be guilty of taking up more than my fair share of seating in public places and having others glare as I hove into view knowing they will be losing half their bum space as I squeeze my bulk on to a chair made for a ‘normal’ person. I don’t want to lumber, I want to stride, to walk with some semblance of grace. I don’t want to have to wear clothes that freak me out, things that billow without the aid of a breeze and could serve as a tent should there be some sort of natural disaster and survivors require emergency housing.
I took my cozzie with me at the weekend knowing there would be a pool and thinking that a swim or two would be a gentle way to get back into the excersice thing. That worked in two ways. Yes it did get wet and show that I could actually move about and enjoy it, and it also moved something else.
It moved the ship of my mind, turned the wheel that would slowly heave the structure in the right direction. Turning a ship isn’t easy. Oh you turn the wheel just like a car, but a ship is so much bigger and has real drag in the water. You have to turn that wheel with purpose, you have to really mean it. You can’t just inch that wheel a wee bit and think that will do. A small movement will do nothing at all. To turn a ship you must move the wheel with determination, with force and hang on.
I turned my ship once before five years ago after attending a New Year’s Eve party and having to dress like a frump and look older than my hostess who had a good ten years on me. I hated myself that night and the next morning I turned the ship and over the following months lost over 4 stone in weight going from a size 22 to a size 10 at my thinnest. It felt amazing to have control over this aspect of my life and I know it all came about due to that shift in mind, that sudden breaking point where I just grabbed the wheel of that ship and turned the damn thing with all my might knowing that I just Had to.
In the past year I have put on weight, Oh I am by no means obese, but I have donned a coating of fat that does me no good at all. I can’t fit clothes I love and I wobble. I no longer like what I see, in fact sometimes I don’t want to see it at all and hate catching sight of myself in a mirror. I feel I have failed myself after all the hard work I put in to lose the weight in the first place.
But knowing you have put on weight and fannying about with a bit of a cut back here and a few sit ups there doesn’t work for me. I have to reach that tipping point where I just know in my heart that the ship must now be turned.
This weekend was the tipping point and I have grabbed the wheel in both hands and am clinging on.
Yesterday was my first outing with the trainers and I chose just to run to the nearest farm a mere half kilometer away. I knew that the worst thing I could do was try for something way out of reach and fail disastrously. I tucked a tiny bunch of may blossom into my laces for luck and set off. I made it to the farm and back and even managed a wee spurt of speed here and there on the way back. I was beside myself with joy, even after a year off and two foot surgeries I could still do it. It felt SO good.
It gave me the boost I needed to really think about my eating throughout the day. I felt I’d made that all important shift, that pulling of the wheel that will move the whole bloody ship. This initial movement is the hard part, dragging the ship round, setting it on the correct course. But I know that when the ship has heaved round it gathers its own momentum, I remember this from before, I just have to hang on to that wheel and stay with it till it settles in the water and goes full steam ahead.
Yesterday I surprised myself, today I know it’s for real. No matter what I have made a start, finally reached that tipping point and I know at long last I’m back on track.