Waiting…

It feels a little like we need to collectively get on with it now. This year I am not at all keen on this in between time. I feel like I am waiting. Waiting for what, I don’t know. But waiting can be a full time occupation so it’s annoying. So in an attempt to not wait for whatever it is I am waiting for, I went for a little run. I even warmed up with some stretches first.

I was hoping for maybe a 2 mile run/walk, ideally pain free. But as I set off I realised I hadn’t actually set any run/walk intervals and I also didn’t really want to stop to walk as I was plodding my way down the hill and wondering whether I should have put another layer on. I was cold. So I kept going. I had a route in mind. But as I got further along, I realised I really did not want to go that route. I had a 15 second walk to gather my thoughts, turned right down a road I am not sure I have ever run down before, and headed towards the canal. I wasn’t settled. I threw in another 20 second walk just to see if I could breathe like a normal human and then set off again to at least claim the mile.

So I basically ran a mile and then called it. My right ankle was tightening again – mostly as I settled into walking though and my hip was niggly. The canal was also busy. On a short stretch between the two bridges I used today, I counted 7 dog walkers and at least 10 dogs. I did not want other people. I just need to get into the habit of going earlier again. I like the time when I have the towpath mostly to myself, or only share it with others who also welcome the solitude – passing in a fleeting moment that needs only to be acknowledged with a nod. None of this constant chirpy ‘good morning’ that I had to endure today. I actually quite like greeting strangers, saying hello, maybe even making a remark about the weather. It’s a nice, friendly thing and it makes me smile. But not when I am trying to run. Just leave me be in my misery and effort. I’ll nod, I’ll smile and I might even force out a ‘hi’ but a full ‘Good Morning’. No.

Anyway, I was a bit grumpy with my lack of ability to run more than a mile (or my unwillingness). But as I stopped, a group of ducks and swans came to see me. I know they wanted feeding really but it felt like they were coming to acknowledge my effort and make me smile. So I walked the last stretch of canal happily watching them, crossed the bridge and walked up the hill. I have zero hill fitness so I deliberately walked up the most direct, but also steepest route. There is only one way to get hill fit…

It was nice to be out. It’s always nice to be out.

Still struggling but in a less annoying way

So yesterday, it turns out, was just a really stupid day. Today is less stupid. I am still struggling a bit. I am at least wearing the right socks (for now anyway, there’s still time to change my mind) and the fact that it is Sunday seems less irritating than yesterday being Saturday. In other words, my brain is less weird. I am back to rolling my eyes at the fitness crap as I scroll passed. I could block some of the content I suppose, but that would require engagement on some level – so nah.

I did my measurements earlier and added them to the Body Coach app – wide load sign required I think. And then I went for a little run. Mainly because I didn’t want to. I thought about how far I wanted to go and had vague ideas about 3 or 4 miles but then I remembered that I can’t actually run at the moment. So I decided to just not worry about it, go by feel and just aim to get out there and move a bit. I mostly ran for a mile. A slow plod on the downhill and flat and then, on the one slightly up hill slope, a lamp post to lamp post run/walk. Then my right ankle started tightening up so I decided to walk back rather than risk actual pain. By the time I had walked up the hill, there was some pain so stopping and walking home was the right thing to do.

I also tried out my birthday trainers – a pair of black wide fitting Brooks Adrenalines. They’re good. Comfy, supportive without being too springy. No squished toes, no foot pain.

Once I got back and sat down with Kath while she finished her workout, the niggle spread into my hip. Nonetheless I did the first workout on the Body Coach App. I’ve done that workout several times over the years and it seems every time I forget just how much completely inane babble there is. Does Joe ever shut up? I know he’s trying to be helpful and motivating and maybe it works because I did finish the workout. Then I remembered that I am too old to not stretch so stretched. I am quite pleased with that sequence. Recently the sequence has been more like: I should run, yeah don’t wanna, I can run later. Later comes and goes. I didn’t run, oh well, I can run tomorrow. I could do a workout instead. Hm, yes but I’m not wearing a bra. I can’t possibly put a sports bra on now. That’s just too much. I should do some stretches. I’ll do those before bed. Then I am in bed, not having stretched. Repeat.

So first, praise for this morning’s me who put a sports bra on. Oh she was a wise woman! Then thanks to my silly brain for recognising that, given I was already wearing a sports bra, already sweaty and already in the exercise-y headspace, not doing the Body Coach workout after my run now would just be ridiculous and such a waster opportunity. And then thanks to hungry me who really wanted lunch but decided that another 10 minutes really didn’t make a difference and anyway, it would take me that long to recover from the workout and I was already sitting on the mat – stretches just made sense.

So there. I wouldn’t say I am having a good day. I still feel a bit flat. But I am having a positive day full of baby steps towards having a better day tomorrow.

Struggling

From our Early Dec trip

It was my birthday yesterday. It was a lovely day, as was Christmas day before that and Christmas Eve. They were all lovely. They were as we planned them, they were calm and quiet, I enjoyed cooking and yesterday I enjoyed Kath taking over and being looked after and spoilt. We had lovely food with our mums, cuddles with cats and not a ‘should’ in sight. It was exactly as I had hoped it would be. And today I feel completely flat. Somehow it feels like the last 2 or 3 days were not at all what I wanted, like they were all about other people and not for me. I don’t know why I feel like that. There was absolutely nothing in those days that would indicate that. Had I described what I wanted before the 3 days, I would have described our Christmas.

I know my birthday is sort of a nuisance. I mean, who wants more people, socialising or food on Boxing Day, who wants a birthday celebration? I am so used to it obviously and it doesn’t actually bother me, except today it does. I am irritated by happy birthday wishes on Facebook – assuming that people only sent them because FB reminded them to, same with LinkedIn. As if that is a bad thing (if you did write on my timeline – thank you. It was lovely to hear from you in the moment even if my brain is being weird today). I am actually just irritated by everything. The fact that it is Saturday has annoyed me all day, as has the fact that I put the ‘wrong’ socks on this morning. The wrong socks? I mean FFS, I just put on socks… at some point my brain decided they were wrong. It’s just an annoying, irritating and fucking stupid day.

I renewed my Body Coach app today. Obviously that was annoying because I had a discount code that I then couldn’t find and it should have been a 2 minute job that took forever. Given my total lack of fitness and the brain fuck that comparison therefore is, I decided to re-set the app completely and start all over again. As part of that I had to put my height and weight into the app… So, I am 47, the heaviest I have ever been, probably also the widest but I am saving the joy of measurements for tomorrow. I am also unfit as nicely highlighted by our Christmas morning run/walk and our Birthday trot out which was a mile of run/walk and then 2 miles of walk because my hips and feet were protesting. We went for a walk this afternoon. A lovely walk that was fucking annoying and which sent my right hip and right foot into proper bitch mode. Guess who hasn’t been stretching enough and who hasn’t done any strength work for months. Oh me, that’s me. Idiot.

And then, because today is a stupid day, I was scrolling, and I suddenly realised that for weeks now, if not longer, I have been bombarded by weight loss or fitness content on my social media. It’s relentless. Every second post I see is either ‘hormonal weight gain gone with this magic exercise/herbal tea’; ’50 habits you need to ditch of you’re heading for 50′; ‘ten things peri menopausal women are doing wrong in the gym’ or some nonsense about how you can get lean in 6 weeks in just 15 minutes a day… No wonder my brain is fried. Every bit of messaging seems to be ‘you need to be thinner’. Didn’t we do this already in the 90s? We do not need to go back there! I thought we had switched to ‘strong not skinny’ and a different way of thinking about exercise. I thought movement was good per se, not because movement might help weight loss. I see some content that acts as a counter balance but I have to go look for that. I nearly didn’t renew the Body Coach app because I saw several transformation pics as I was looking for my discount code – all of them emphasised the weight loss. All – Of – Them.

The fitness stuff on social media is awful. I have been scrolling past almost all of it because I don’t care what some teenage influencer thinks I should or shouldn’t be doing, or how fast, according to some hot shot, let me check, social media personality, I should be running a mile or whether I run a 5 k faster than a list of supposed celebrities. Or at least I thought I didn’t care. But just the fact that it is there constantly has obviously had an impact. I am less keen than ever to go back to the gym. I don’t belong there. I don’t want to get on the bike, don’t belong on Zwift either, that’s for people who can, you know, actually cycle rather than go backwards at the first sign of a hill. And as for running. Hm. I have no business being out there pretending to be a runner. I am not a runner. Maybe I was once but maybe those hopes and dreams about things I wanted to do should just stay dreams, maybe they are no longer achievable. That. Or maybe today is just a really stupid, annoying day. Maybe I just don’t like forced transitions and artificial cycles and the pressure to re-invent myself. Birthdays are one of those – ‘what’s it like to be 47?’ Such an idiotic question, I am a day older than yesterday… nothing is different. And then of course the new year is coming at us fast with all that comes with the New Year, New You crap. And for me birthday and new year are annoyingly close together giving me a delightful double whammy of ‘do better, be better, this is your time to make changes and improve, become a better version of yourself…’ Urgh. Is 2026 going to see the new me? Is this year, where I, aged 47, finally get my shit together? Is 2026 going to be my year? I fucking hope not. That sounds exhausting and people-y.

Anyway, I think the best thing that can be done with a day like today is to turn it into yesterday as quickly as possible. I am not even going to try and read because every book I have picked up today has been irritating. Tomorrow we stretch, take our magnesium and take it one step at a time and maybe some of those steps have purpose, maybe some of them are even running steps… because today is just a fucking stupid, irritating and annoying day but I am still me and the impossible is still out there, waiting to be done.

The Gym

If you are looking for some inspirational reframing following yesterday’s post – you know the sort of ‘it was all terrible but actually good because this good thing happened and personal growth… positivity… gratitude… #blessed…-then stop reading now. You’re not getting that. The picture at the top is me dripping in sarcasm and rolling my eyes. Stronger than Yesterday is nonsense. The whole beating yesterday thing that pops up every now and again and was a staple of fitness industry advertising a while ago (not sure if it still is, I pay no attention), the idea that every time you go out and exercise, the session has to be better is nonsense. Better than what on what basis? Why? Anyway, inspirational quotes and memes are clearly wasted on me at the moment. What did stick with me from ages ago though is an idea I heard somewhere. It was from a famous runner. I want to say Eliud Kipchoge but that may well not be true. I have googled but it didn’t come up immediately and I don’t have the patience. Anyway, it was something along the lines of training runs not having to be pretty, not having to be better than the last one, not having to be happy or easy or whatever, they just have to be done.

Just having to be done reminded me of something I say to students when they are scared of assessments – do it scared, … but it needs to be done. If they want the thing at the end – the degree- then they need to do it. If I want to be able to have adventures, see the world, get outdoors, keep playing, I need to start getting this done. So I’ll do the gym miserable and grumpy and feeling judged today. This is me, taking up space (I hate the pictures btw but keeping it real) in a space that I feel totally conflicted in. I know what I am doing but it feels like everyone there assumes I do not (nobody assumes anything, they don’t care, this is all me). I feel invisible and hyper visible at the same time. I hate the mirrors but the mirrors also confirm that my form is good and I do in fact know what I am doing.

So, yeah, I went. Getting out was tough but once in the gym I turned my music up loud and disappeared into my bubble. I have my little leg routine, I did it mostly without thinking about it. So as I am feeling judged by numbers anyway, I will tell you what my weights circuit was this morning. This is just me, trying to take the power out of the numbers. I did 3 sets of everything

  • Leg Press: 52kg x 8
  • Leg Extension 25kg but niggled knee so dropped to 18kg x 8
  • Leg Curl 23kg x8
  • Adductor 29kg x 8
  • Adductor 50kg x 8
  • Calf Raise (single leg) 11kg x 8 (to go up next time)
  • Deadlift 17.5kg bar x 8 (to go up next time)
  • Glute bridge with 5kg weight

Did I have fun? Nope. Did I enjoy it in any way? Nope. Did I enjoy having done it? Still nope. But it doesn’t matter. It’s done. I did it fucking grumpy and quite a bit miserable but I’m ok. Nobody laughed (obviously), the numbers didn’t gang up on me, nothing earth shattering happened. Fat lass went to the gym, did a workout and left. End.

Kath also took my lego castle apart for me and I have bagged all the pieces and started to build the foundation for my magic. Still haven’t found the box and instructions but that doesn’t actually matter. So there you are, the castle is in bits, a bit like my fitness journey, waiting to be put back together again, section by section. This may take a while:

So if you are looking for motivation or inspiration (why are you still reading this?) then take this: Whatever the ‘it’ is for you right now. Just get it done. Do it tired, do it stressed, do it sad, angry, miserable. Doesn’t matter. It might not change your life but if it needs doing then do it however you feel. I did the gym miserable. I am still miserable about exercise but there is the tiniest possibility that I might actually be very very slightly stronger than yesterday – hm.

Me in my head

Ah right, where are we. It’s the end-ish of April. It’s well over a months since I last posted. I wrote the last post while we were away and I was all set for starting week 2 of couch to 5km. Then I got food poisoning or a nasty tummy bug and wiped myself out for a week. Eventually I started back on the bike, the new gym opened and I went to some classes and did a couple of strength sessions and I have done the odd yoga flow and workout at home. I even went for a run while at a conference in Glasgow. But nothing is quite clicking.

After attending the yoga class at the gym for the first time I wrote the following LinkedIn post. Since then I have been wondering if maybe I need to call out my own BS. Am I fitter than I look? The bit that I think is true is that I do indeed have a lot of experience. However, having spent chunks of time in the gym where there are mirrors everywhere, having been in several classes where I have struggled with some bits and having tried to go back to basics with running and with the bike, I am not so sure I am actually fitter than I look. And I don’t look fit.

I have noticed that the more time I have spent in the gym the less I feel like I belong there. The more classes I have been too, the less confident I am in taking up space in them, the more I go out and try and tick off the couch to 5km runs, the less I feel like a runner and as for the bike, well I never really believed that was for me. I was asked recently if I enjoyed the gym and the classes. My answer was that I am not that keen but that I do it because it makes me a better runner or even just allows me to run without getting injured. I want that to be true but it assumes I am currently running. In truth, I am not enjoying any of it. It’s miserable. All of it is unreasonably hard. I am stiff and creaky, weak, inflexible, have nothing on cardio and not even the willpower the swear mostly. This morning I did a 20 minute Joe Wicks strength workout, and by did I mean I tried but I modified every other exercise and for one I just quietly sobbed in something vaguely resembling child’s pose which I can’t properly get into because by tummy gets in the way and my hips won’t flex.

None of the tricks are working. I can’t motivate myself because I am struggling to trick my brain into getting it done. I know exercise is awful when you first start, when you have to claw yourself back to fitness. I feel like I have been clawing my way back since the first Covid infection in 2020. I feel like every time I make a tiny bit of progress, something happens. I feel like I haven’t had the chance to string any sort of consistency together. For the last few years I have never got beyond the ‘this is awful’ phase of exercise. I haven’t had the wins. I haven’t had the things that make it worth it. I haven’t been able to claim ‘strong not skinny’ for myself, I haven’t been able to focus on what my body can do rather than what it looks like because it can do so little at the moment. I haven’t even been able to say ‘This Girl Can’ because this girl can’t. And most of the time I was fine with that. I was fine with starting over over and over again, with making minimal progress, getting derailed and then going again. But now? I don’t know what has shifted. Maybe it’s the mirrors all over the gym, maybe it’s the lack of modifications given in most gym classes, maybe it is the constant ‘how to lose weight in your 40s’ advertising that hits my social media feeds, I don’t know. But for the first time in well over a decade I suddenly care that I am fat. It doesn’t feel like just a descriptor in the way that it has done for so long. I have forgotten that I don’t care what people think and suddenly found myself worrying about that. I have forgotten that it has never been about size and weight and have suddenly become concerned about both of those numbers, I have forgotten they are just numbers to which we have arbitrarily assigned value. I feel judged by the numbers. I have forgotten running, exercise, movement is about me and for me and not about anyone else or expectations or conforming to some weird normative bullshit about what my body looks like or can do. It’s swirling into one rather body conscious mess that makes getting out there doing the things that will help bring clarity and balance harder.

So today I wanted to start getting my head sorted but most things at the minute just feel like pressure. I could make a plan – what exercise do I want to do when. And I can do this well, my plans are good and sensible. I have been around this stuff for long enough to have a sense of what works and what is realistic. I could do a really ambitious but doable plan and I could also do a really gentle be kind to yourself through this wobble plan but just the idea of having a plan of any kind just made me convince myself that I would probably just disappoint myself. I thought I could use stickers again and give myself a sticker for every day where I manage to run, cycle or go to the gym – the stickers used to work well but now it just feels like it risks having to look at days and days without stickers when I inevitably don’t manage it. My self talk about just trying to do something was annoying and a bit preachy and anything inspirational that might have made me snap out of it was just not for me…

A week or so ago Kath told me about a conversation with her coach about visual representation of runs or mileage or whatever. And Kath has decided to use Lego – so no colouring in for miles run or workouts completed but instead Kath is, over time, going to build the house from Disney’s ‘Up’. I like this. Stickers on a calendar leave gaps, building something with lego doesn’t leave gaps, the progress and effort made are visible and remain for you to add to even if you miss some time. So I want to build my mini Disney Castle. I decided today that for every day where I manage to go out there and take up space in the fitness and exercise world, run, go to a class or the gym, cycle, whatever, I build. Brick by brick. I almost felt positive about it and thought that this long weekend I could literally lay the foundations for my own little castle of magic and dreams. But I can’t find the box. The castle is built on a shelf in my study. But the box and instructions? We have now searched the house from loft to every cupboard in the house. Can’t find it. Now I know I can download the instructions and I can keep the pieces in ziplock bags. It’s not actually a huge deal. But it felt like it. It felt like the universe saying ‘That castle of magic and dreams – yeah not for you’.

And while I am typing this, my lower back niggles, my bra is digging in, my right foot hurts for no reason and I know that I need to and want to snap out of it and get back to getting better at doing hard. I can do hard. Hell, I can do the impossible. It’s fun to do the impossible, or it used to be. Trusting the process, being patient and just trying to do something, trying to be kind and trying to call myself out when I am just being lazy is hard. I am ok doing hard. I don’t expect easy, it can be impossible for all I care. I will do it anyway, but what I can’t seem to do right now, is deal with feeling judged and like my value is somehow attached to numbers – numbers of the scales, on the clothes labels, on my Garmin or on the weights I am using at the gym. And the most annoying thing about this is – I am pretty sure most people are not judging. It’s all in my head and I don’t know why.

So we go again tomorrow. I want to do a strength session at the gym. I will take up space. I will do my thing. The numbers will be what the numbers will be. Maybe little by little my perspective will shift again. Trust the process, remember it’s for me, it’s about me and me needs to get out of my head.