When did life get so hard?!

I like to think that I’m a positive person, I don’t tend to have ‘downers’ or dwell on the negative stuff.  I’m the optimist who signs up for crazy sporting challenges, because of course I’ll be fit enough and thin enough to run a marathon or cycle 100 miles in six months time because this time the diet and fitness plan is going to work for me, right?  However, this week I’ve been feeling pretty blurgh about myself.

It all started on Saturday (my birthday) when the group of people I was dining with recorded me while they sang Happy Birthday to me (and then of course put the video on Facebook).  The video was a shock!  Of course I know that at several stone overweight I don’t look great, but I was truly knocked sideways by the image on the screen.  I won’t go into detail about just how awful I looked, as I don’t think that is particularly healthy, but safe to say that I went to bed that night feeling lower than I have in many years and I don’t exaggerate when I say that the image, and the feelings of humiliation, will be emblazoned in my memory for all time.

In this new negative mind set I started noticing other aspects of my ‘fat life’.  For instance how my back aches every morning and how everything seems to be such a blinking effort all the time!  I will quite happily sleep for nine hours every night (and then still have an afternoon nap if I can get away with it), my days of leaping out of bed to embrace the new day are years behind me.

Whilst I am very good at sticking to my exercise plan, probably because I’m not working at the moment so really don’t have any excuse to shirk, the aches and pains afterwards are noticeable and exercises that used to be relatively easy for me are so hard now.

A point in case is cycling, before I met my husband I used to cycle EVERYWHERE, I didn’t like public transport and so I would get on my bike instead of catching the bus.  Then when I met someone who could drive me around I gradually phased out the cycling (oh and I gained a few stones – I wonder if the two are related?!).  Now without my lifts in the week (as hubby works while I don’t) I have cause to cycle to the Wildlife Sanctuary that I volunteer at once a week.  The journey is a relatively flat one and only five miles each way, something that I would have done without even noticing ten years ago, but now it near kills me!  It takes me thirty minutes to complete each leg of the journey and I spend everyone of those minutes cursing myself for finding it so difficult and bemoaning the fact that I have let myself get like this.  What is particularly sad about this is instead of looking forward to my volunteering I dread it.


Not one to be sad for long I will use these experiences to give me more determination to succeed on my fitness journey and I will keep riding that bloody bike until life gets easier!

Wish me luck!

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