I was never a sporty spice... I knew I could run when I was a child, I was fast. I saw no reason why this wouldn't continue. I didn't quite get the concept of use it or lose it, and so I calmly let my body get lazy. My muscles see no point in straining themselves, they relax. They sleep.
Imagine my surprise when walking with some colleagues lately around the block near work, and finding myself out of breath, legs wobbly with the incline, red face, stitch in side, inside, and the rest of them, the cheek of them, their legs continuing to work easily, them talking away, breathing away, grand.
So I've gone for professional help. I'm paying a lady, a Polish lady as it happens, to tell me what way to move around for a half an hour or so each week. In between meetings with her I'm doing a bit at home too. I'm only two weeks in, but posting this here is my public commitment to it. With big thanks to my friend who went for personal training first. Now I own lycra, not including swimsuits, for the first time since bicycle shorts in the 80's. I am doing Burpees, that don't involve bouncing a colicky baby for hours on end.
My body is resistant to it, at 6.30 each evening, I can almost hear my legs and arms saying "here, there's no bear chasing us, there's no deer to be running after, what are you doing?"
I'm probably over-expectant about it - I am under the impression that this regime will lead me to become a Jane Fonda-esque robot, able to survive on just 8 hours of sleep, and not feel tired ever...
Some benefits have already begun. I'm going for more walks, which the dog loves, and do have a leetle tiny teeny bit more energy I feel, which is impressive when you think about the extra energy being expended, however I do ache. My arms especially can hardly lift a cup of coffee, which has been replaced once a day with a hot lemon and fruit drink... I hardly recognise myself.
I will keep you posted.
