I went running today. This is quite a mean feat for me, as I am possibly The Most Unhealthy Girl in the World. I don't say this lightly.
Let me set the scene for you. I am one of those heinous bitches who can pretty much eat whatever I damn well like and not get overweight. The only time I've teetered on the edge of the normal-overweight line on the BMI scale is December last year when I'd spent three months sat at my desk at work eating fish & chips, cake and biscuits before returning home to Mum & Dad's for Christmas and gorged on cheeseboards, turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy and yet more biscuits and chocolate. In the past 6 months I have lost a stone (14 pounds) just by putting less food on my plate. If I wasn't me, I'd slap me.
I never exercise. I don't enjoy it, I don't get into a routine of Just Doing It Anyway. I don't put effort into maintaining my physical health. I like the idea of exercising and want to be able to enjoy it, but it's easier to just say that I'll start tomorrow and for now I'll just sit here and watch another episode of How I Met Your Mother on BT Vision.
Pretty appalling since I studied muscle and cardiovascular physiology along with exercise, nutrition and health at the third largest university in the country.
At weekend, I spent time with The Mister's friends from work, who I met for the first time. And they all do workouts of some kind, be it running, mountain biking, swimming, etc. It's kind of hard to live in a rural area of the most beautiful part of the country and not be the outdoors-y type.
So, somehow, I got it into my head that one day, soon, I will be an outdoors-y type, too and I'll be fit and healthy and drink ice cold water and not get tired walking up the stairs(!) and actually look cool wearing trainers.
I asked The Mister to text me today and ask how my run went. You know, so I could feel incredibly guilty when I inevitably stayed indoors and played Scrabble on Facebook with my day off instead.
Well, imagine my surprise today when I actually went for a run. No, I know, I was amazed, too. It's mostly down to my friend Kate that I went, since she texted me saying she was all full of buzz and excitement after getting back from her long walk in the rain (she is an actual rockstar) and encouraged/persuaded me to JFDI - Just Fucking Do It. Because "the thought of it is far worse than the actual doing", she said. (I would later find out that this isn't the case, but more on that later.)
And, I scraped my already slightly greasy hair back into a ponytail, got changed into my black leggings and my floppy white DKNY t-shirt that I've had since I was sixteen, my argyle pumps (because, as I've said, I am not outdoors-y and this was the most athletic clothing I own). I so wish I could have worn a superhero jumpsuit and cape, just to spur me on a bit more, but alas.
Hilariously, I drove to the place I wanted to run from, which Google Maps tells me is only 0.3 miles.
I parked my car and walked up the hill to the sea wall where is and started to run. Since I was a pretty decent sprinter at high school, I started off running at what I thought was a reasonable pace but it turns out, was not. After about 500 metres, I started to feel the burn in the back of my throat. And after not very long, I began to feel actual fire in the space where my trachea splits into my bronchi.
It was then I realised just how unfit I am. I was disgusted with myself and had to start walking. And that is just plain piss-poor. At one point I may even have sat down on a step. Deary me, eh?
I managed to pick myself up again and started plodding along. THUD THUD THUD went my feet on the concrete.
People say you feel better when, or immediately after, you exercise. Well. *During* my run I could feel my sinuses pulsating in my skull and thought my cheekbones would burst out of my face, I could feel myself drowning in my own sweat and well, we've already discussed the flammable lung issues. Immediately after my exercise, I felt sick.
Google Maps said I "ran" 2.0 miles in 30 minutes. That is pretty rubbish.
But you know, I think it's pretty good in some ways. Now, I have a really low benchmark to beat tomorrow, haha! And at least I DID IT instead of sitting inside drinking tea and eating biscuits. (Yes, when I got home from my run, I *did* sit down and eat biscuits, but that's allowed, right?) And I will get faster and be able to run further. Maybe not straight away, but one day. My friend Laura has asked me if I want to do Race for Life with her next year, so I've now got an entire year to learn how to do 5k.
This blog entry was brought to you by me procrastinating. I am supposed to be writing my last psychology entry for this module by 11th July but apparently I'd rather write something embarrassing about myself than write 400 more words on how society influences your personality. This entry was 965 words by the way, over 500 more than I actually need to write for the Open University. Wow, my procrastination knows no bounds.
Let me set the scene for you. I am one of those heinous bitches who can pretty much eat whatever I damn well like and not get overweight. The only time I've teetered on the edge of the normal-overweight line on the BMI scale is December last year when I'd spent three months sat at my desk at work eating fish & chips, cake and biscuits before returning home to Mum & Dad's for Christmas and gorged on cheeseboards, turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy and yet more biscuits and chocolate. In the past 6 months I have lost a stone (14 pounds) just by putting less food on my plate. If I wasn't me, I'd slap me.
I never exercise. I don't enjoy it, I don't get into a routine of Just Doing It Anyway. I don't put effort into maintaining my physical health. I like the idea of exercising and want to be able to enjoy it, but it's easier to just say that I'll start tomorrow and for now I'll just sit here and watch another episode of How I Met Your Mother on BT Vision.
Pretty appalling since I studied muscle and cardiovascular physiology along with exercise, nutrition and health at the third largest university in the country.
At weekend, I spent time with The Mister's friends from work, who I met for the first time. And they all do workouts of some kind, be it running, mountain biking, swimming, etc. It's kind of hard to live in a rural area of the most beautiful part of the country and not be the outdoors-y type.
So, somehow, I got it into my head that one day, soon, I will be an outdoors-y type, too and I'll be fit and healthy and drink ice cold water and not get tired walking up the stairs(!) and actually look cool wearing trainers.
I asked The Mister to text me today and ask how my run went. You know, so I could feel incredibly guilty when I inevitably stayed indoors and played Scrabble on Facebook with my day off instead.
Well, imagine my surprise today when I actually went for a run. No, I know, I was amazed, too. It's mostly down to my friend Kate that I went, since she texted me saying she was all full of buzz and excitement after getting back from her long walk in the rain (she is an actual rockstar) and encouraged/persuaded me to JFDI - Just Fucking Do It. Because "the thought of it is far worse than the actual doing", she said. (I would later find out that this isn't the case, but more on that later.)
And, I scraped my already slightly greasy hair back into a ponytail, got changed into my black leggings and my floppy white DKNY t-shirt that I've had since I was sixteen, my argyle pumps (because, as I've said, I am not outdoors-y and this was the most athletic clothing I own). I so wish I could have worn a superhero jumpsuit and cape, just to spur me on a bit more, but alas.
Hilariously, I drove to the place I wanted to run from, which Google Maps tells me is only 0.3 miles.
I parked my car and walked up the hill to the sea wall where
It was then I realised just how unfit I am. I was disgusted with myself and had to start walking. And that is just plain piss-poor. At one point I may even have sat down on a step. Deary me, eh?
I managed to pick myself up again and started plodding along. THUD THUD THUD went my feet on the concrete.
People say you feel better when, or immediately after, you exercise. Well. *During* my run I could feel my sinuses pulsating in my skull and thought my cheekbones would burst out of my face, I could feel myself drowning in my own sweat and well, we've already discussed the flammable lung issues. Immediately after my exercise, I felt sick.
Google Maps said I "ran" 2.0 miles in 30 minutes. That is pretty rubbish.
But you know, I think it's pretty good in some ways. Now, I have a really low benchmark to beat tomorrow, haha! And at least I DID IT instead of sitting inside drinking tea and eating biscuits. (Yes, when I got home from my run, I *did* sit down and eat biscuits, but that's allowed, right?) And I will get faster and be able to run further. Maybe not straight away, but one day. My friend Laura has asked me if I want to do Race for Life with her next year, so I've now got an entire year to learn how to do 5k.
This blog entry was brought to you by me procrastinating. I am supposed to be writing my last psychology entry for this module by 11th July but apparently I'd rather write something embarrassing about myself than write 400 more words on how society influences your personality. This entry was 965 words by the way, over 500 more than I actually need to write for the Open University. Wow, my procrastination knows no bounds.
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