Today has been a better day – yesterday was impossible. I was in such a contrary mood, I even annoyed myself. I did get dressed and go out and walk in the end, in fact I walked even further than the previous two days just to prove a point. To myself. I’d spent at least a couple of hours beforehand arguing with the asshole back and forth before I shook him off, it was pathetic. And who even knew that so many excuses existed for not getting dressed and going out for a walk…he tried them all. And I ignored them all…I felt euphoric, if a little footsore when I got home. Me: 1- Asshole: 0.
Totting my three expeditions up, I’ve walked just over nine miles in the last three days, and I’m quietly impressed at how this fat old body is responding. I mean I’m not dead for a start…who knew that would happen! I’m still dragging 282lbs of lard around with me so I’m not sashaying up hills with any particular style or grace, but I’m doing it.
What I find rather astonishing is that on the first walk I did, on Boxing Day, I had to stop three times at various points on the hill to catch my breath and rest my legs for a minute. Sunday I did the same walk, but despite setting off with legs and feet which were already a bit sore from the day before, I only had to stop twice, and I did the walk ten minutes faster than the day before. Before you nod off, I swear I’m not about to start listing how far and how fast on a daily basis, but it surprised me. I didn’t expect it to get easier without a fight you know?
This is a first for me, I mean real unchartered territory. I’ve never pushed myself out of my comfort zone before where exercise is concerned. Dieting, yes. I’ve been a dieting Ninja on and off over the years, but exercise, not so much so. I did spend a year or so going to the gym when I was dating Mr Muscle and I did become very fit but I was a skinny string bean back then, and eight years younger to boot so it’s a different ball game. It feels like a lifetime ago, and I don’t remember having to really dig in.
It’s a bit scary to think that the trek I’ve signed up for will involve walking about twelve miles a day over pretty tough terrain, for five days on the bounce. I could honestly shit a brick whenever I think about that, but I tell you what, I am determined not to be the old fat one at the back of the pack. I want to stride off that bloody mountain first like a proper game old bird. That’s what’s driving me…I suspected that having a longer term fitness goal might help me on this journey but I didn’t quite anticipate how much of a fire it was going to light underneath these feet.
Mind you, if you’d seen me climbing the stairs to bed last night after three big walks in as many days you’d have fallen over laughing. Lets just say I’d have made it to the top far more quickly if I’d had a Stannah Stairlift…these old bones in this fat body were creaking with every step.
But it can only get better, right?
