Tuesday, 30 August 2011

Running scared

Today is not a good day. I'd go so far as to say today is a Bad Day. With capital letters.

I am struggling. And I'm sick of it. I have to sort this out. I have to get my shit together. I am wallowing in my pain and it's boring.

So fuck it. I am going to set myself a wee challenge. I am going to run for half an hour every day. Every single day. No matter how shit I feel or how bad the weather is. I am just going to do it.

I've discovered a love of running over the last year but I still lack the willpower to get up and push myself out of the door sometimes. Every single time I do I feel better about myself. My head is clearer, the voices shut the hell up for a bit and I feel proud of myself.

At school I skived out of PE for the entire five years. I hated it. HATED it. It was ritual humiliation followed by communal fucking showers. When you're 14? And your PE teacher is extremely suspect? I remember her - Miss Waite - as an overweight, unfit looking bully who pointed out girl's cellulite and watched them walk into the shower. Seriously, what the fuck? She didn't look like she could walk a mile let alone run one.

I watched her watching the girls (I had plenty of time on my hands. I was persuaded by a doctor that I had a cartilege problem in my knee which I carefully cultivated for the five years I wanted to skip sports) and she was a bitch. A nasty bitch who did everything she could to keep the fat girls down and praise the kids who were already doing well.

So yeah, I grew up feeling ashamed of my (lack of) sporting prowess. I fully admit that it probably shouldn't have taken me quite this long to realise that I can run and I can swim and actually I can do everything anyone else can. I just need to DO IT. (I still can't do a cartwheel. That's never going to happen).

A run a day. Let's see what that can do for my state of mind. And my body. Starting now.

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