I was never into sports. I always looked at it as a bit pointless activity. I mean…sure go to the woods to gather lumber makes sense. Go to the woods just for the point of exercise? Odd… At work we have a few cases of runners. No I’m not talking about diarrhea. But a child who is prone to running away with no feel of self-preservation to the object that intrigues him. For example one of them really likes cars … and if he knows you are not watching … he will run. In this case running after him makes total sense. Running for the sake of just running is baffling to me.
Took me a long time before I adapted sports as my own. As being something that is a part of my identity. I think that was the main issue all along. It was like saying: hi, my name is Atopy and I’m into sports. Like it was a bit …shameful? Though I can’t say I’m 100% into sports. But compared to my old days I might just say it as it is.
Gym is my poison of choice. When I first walked through the doors I was scared. Like my whole mind rebuked and kept whispering: this is pointless, its feking 6 am, why are you doing this, lets rather have some cake and watch GOT, let’s stay in our comfort zone. Call it fear, being insecure, self-doubt, the devil, split personality, ego...whatever you want it. I call it the Queen. The Queen likes it comfy and only likes to do things where she rules, gets compliments and she can boast herself.
After my first gym “session” I could not get dressed or drive my car for 2 whole days.
Yet here I am ... 10 months later and for example I can do squats with 80kg. My Queen and my touch of OCD are pleased.
And here is running. My gym is closed next week due to collective vacation. My moto was always: rather play dead then run. The Queen is whispering: your body was not meant to run, sure lifting is fine, but running? You know when it comes to endurance and cardio you suck at it. Let’s just rather have some cake and watch GOT!
But I was already playing with the idea of filling my no gym week with running and hiking and then pushed me over with her post.
So yesterday I dropped by my mother … she had computer issues quote: “of massive proportions”, which turned out to be just a dysfunctional mouse. I pulled out my sneakers. No more excuses. Just one km. Just one to see how bad it really is and I can make plans for next week.
It was the longest 7 minutes of my life.
1 min in: Oh damn, I forgot to pee.
1 min 20 sec in: Why am I doing this?
2 min in: Running is deffo stupid.
3 min in: Is it normal to sound as a locomotive while doing this?
4 min in: All runners are liars, feeling free and happy my azz. This is torture.
4 min 30 sec in: Maybe I just need to refocus my thoughts. Yes, think of something else … like cake and GOT.
6 min in: I need that stupid bag for my phone, sticking it in my bra wasn’t the smartest idea.
7 min in: Oh … that wasn’t so bad.
So yes ... next week. Running it is.