Sometime last year, I realised I am very out of shape.
My clothes are tight and cling to my body in the most unflattering way. I don’t feel good about myself.
I’m not only talking about weight. I am overweight, yes, mainly because I love food and stress makes me overeat even more, but most people will still say I look fine. I know I don’t.
I struggle with my schedule and I hate gyms. Not a great combination. I hate repetition so lifting weights really does my head in. I can easily walk a few miles but find treadmills loathsome. I enjoy some Body Systems lessons but I find their schedule does not suit me.
Yesterday, I saw light at the end of the tunnel.
Mom is here (she arrived Saturday) and as I watched her get ready to go for a jog with Raven, I felt humiliated. She’s almost 68 and has all sorts of physical problems (including a bad knee and ankle that need constant monitoring) on top of her mental health issues. She was stretching excitedly when I decided to join them.
I struggled. There’s no point in denying. I didn’t push the pace or distance. I was left behind a few times. We covered 1.5 miles, alternating between running and walking.
I was drained for the rest of the day and my muscles are sore today, however, I realised I liked it and it’s something I can do. It doesn’t take up much time and I don’t have to drive anywhere at a specific time to try to get into a lesson.
I promised myself to do it every day from now on. I need it and I can do it.