Commitment

I am one of the most unfit people I know.  I'm flat-footed and bow-legged.

I spent years avoiding anything that remotely resembled exercise while my friends swam and scuba dived and played rugby and ran marathons.  I never wanted to be an athletic person (except when I wanted to be Michelle Kwan).  On P.E. days, I would run 200 metres and end up with violent stabbing pains in my chest.  The doctors couldn't find anything, but it hurt all the same. 

Some time ago, I left a comment on Grace's blog (I think) about the diffculty I had breathing and Holly, a coach and very sweet blogger, replied, telling me that it was probably because I needed to go slowly and let my body adjust.

And so, I started "plodding" regularly - moving around the neighbourhood at the slowest possible pace without walking.  It was painful.  At first I could only plod for about 500 metres without feeling winded.  And then maybe a couple of 500 metre stretches along a much longer route.  Somewhere along the way, I started plodding for longer and longer bouts until my chest didn't hurt anymore.  I woke just after dawn two, three, sometimes even four times a week and let the morning air and sunrise wash over me.

It was really difficult; everything hurt, from my thighs to my calves to my shoulders.  But my feet, over-pronating and sliding around in £10 shoes from Tesco that I'd bought on a whim, hurt the most.  The further I plodded, the harder and longer my soles ached and I limped around the office for the rest of the day in agony.  Two weeks ago, when the rubber on the heel started flapping off in bits, I finally gave in to buying a new pair.

I talked one of the fittest people I know, my friend Dawn, and she suggested I try Running Lab at Velocity so that I could get proper advice on what shoes to get.  They would be expensive, she said, but worth the price. 

Back in the office, Edie (very sporty) and Shirin (very sensible) agreed. 

"But it's a lot of money, " I said doubtfully.  "What if I wake up one morning and just decide I'm done plodding?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Shirin said, "you've been doing it for what, six months already?"

I sat there for a minute, stunned.  Surely I hadn't consistently been engaging in regular, entirely voluntary exercise for half a freaking year.  But she was right.

So I showed up at the Running Lab last week, tried not to flinch when the man looked horrified at just how flat my feet were and plodded for two minutes on the treadmill in the store while Edie filmed a video and giggled.  Lots of consideration, negotiation and lip-biting later, I was the owner of a neon yellow pair of New Balance shoes with the best socks I have ever had the pleasure to know. 

And so far?  I haven't quit.  Just taken them for a couple of long, slow plods in the vicinity and enjoyed the support and cushioning that they provide.  My feet still hurt a little but in a good way- feet that are trying to get used to an inbuilt arch where there was previously none. 

It's still hard.  I still struggle while people I know knock out amazing workouts with alarming regularity.  But the one thing I am enjoying is this new commitment to my health and to my body. 

Maybe it's the relationship I've been looking for all along.