I’ve never been a lover of exercise, in fact, I think it’s fair to say: I hate it! I’ve always been an admirer of those who claim to love it/are addicted to it (is this true? Do these people exist? Have they been sent here to destroy/annoy me?). Sport on the other hand I love, but unfortunately a netball team, kicking off practice at 7pm on a Tuesday when I finished a day at work 2 hours ago, am dragging the kids back from robotics club, feeding and herding them towards bed just ain’t happening anytime soon!
A combo of turning 30 last Dec and that during my pregnancy I was unable to move a lot due to agony caused by pelvic girdle pain (commonly known in our house as “fanny bone ache” – that’s a whole other blog post for another time), I vowed once I’d birthed my little bundle of joy I’d make the most of my regained mobility and go for a run!! Yes, a run!! Something I’d done twice previously in my life, never with any success (I’m aware there’s no “success” to be had, it’s all about you blah blah blah… But gasping for breathe, turning a shade of red, Pantone have yet to discover, and wanting to pass out is about as far from success as I think one can get!).
So, 6 weeks (the magic period of time I think Drs say to refrain from exercise) after birth came quicker than I imagined… The kids had even got involved at this stage with the comical idea of mummy running and were asking “it’s six weeks, are you going for your run yet?!” But it just wasn’t appealing to me in the same way it had 3 months earlier when an incapacitated, heavily pregnant me was convinced that running was going to be my new “thing”! So about week 8 hit and with enough goading from the kids, man and even my mum at this point, I donned my leggings, one exercise top (always in the bottom drawer in case of emergencies!!) and my trainers and hit the pavement of the local, very well presented, new housing estate – hoping beyond hopes not to see anyone on my way!
Now, this is usually the part where I think I’m meant to get all inspiring and tell you it changed my life, I’m now part of some hot mummy running group, I’ve signed up to the Paris Half-Marathon and I’m in talks with Nike for a sponsorship deal! No, not today and most probably not in this lifetime!! I’ve come to the conclusion I was simply not made for running – unless of course Selfridges declare a 90% off everything sale, in which case watch this girl move!
Somewhere between the sensation of drowning (due to breathlessness), the feeling my body was on fire, the lactic acid coursing through every inch of me creating an all over stabbing pain and the overwhelming urge to curl up on the pavement in a ball for a good hour to regain a sense of normality – I decided to never, ever try this again! Here’s a picture to prove it…
Now 12 weeks on, I can safely say I’m not regretting my decision at all and will be looking at more enjoyable ways to get this body moving (eventually!). The only downside to not being a “runner” is that there really is no way to justify spending as much as I would like on trendy sportswear to be found at Urban Outfitters.
If you’re still with me at this point, you may be wondering what the point of my little story is! I’m not condoning my actions in any way – I’m not saying every mum should try jogging once and give in. This is a multi-faceted fable…
- Firstly, this is a huge high-five to all those mamas (and papas and non-mamas) who haul their asses outta bed in the morning (or whenever) to pound that pavement. I think you’re amazing – almost godly for what you manage to do on regular basis!
- Secondly, this is a tale of trying. I might not have liked it, but if I hadn’t tried I wouldn’t know that – so whatever you “jogging” is – it might be a spin class, or baking a cake, or starting your own blog – just try it! You quite honestly have nothing, except maybe a teensy bit of pride and some precious time, to lose!
- Lastly, don’t feel bad if you’re not a jogger either! If like me you’ve resigned your Nike’s to a life of fashion accessory as opposed to the purpose for which they were intended, so be it! We can’t all be part of a running club, but there is undoubtedly some club we will fit into and actually enjoy.
In my opinion, life is too short for this mama to run!
In other news this week:
- If you liked the lights in this pic of my home office, you can now get similar from HERE.
- I’m uber excited to be seeing this lovely lady next weekend for some snaps.
- Please please please VOTE for me in this year’s Amara Blog Awards HERE.
- And a huge TY to THIS lady, for sending one of these must-haves all the way to the UK!
Have a super Sunday!
This post had me in stitches. I gave running a good go a few years back, it was just so much effing hard work (I know that’s kind of the point). Part of my regular route involved running past a Chinese restaurant and then all I could think about was sesame prawn toast and how much food I wanted to eat when I got home. People said it would get easier but it never did. So I gave up. Some things are hard work and enjoyable but running was not (for me)…
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Morning Gemma – yes, why do do those people always say things like -“it will get easier” or “you’ll start to enjoy it!” – that’s the equivalent of saying “stick with the waterboarding, it’ll get easier!!” but I doubt I’d ever really enjoy it as much as sitting on the sofa for 30 mins with a cuppa and a good book, which I enjoyed to start with without the agony! Now I’m thinking of prawn toast – mmmmmm x