I’m stepping up and now I’m really starting to sweat it up
I AM more than halfway through my training for the Sweat versus Steam.
And in seven weeks, I have gone from barely being able to run one minute to running 1.5km at a time.
It has taken a lot of blood (well, more like blisters), sweat and tears (fat, ugly tears as I scream at myself ‘why did you let yourself get so unfit?!) as well as lots of money spent on Band-aids, magnesium cream (for my aching knees) and some new running gear (girl’s got to spoil herself occasionally).
However, it’s all paying off as my stamina is improving and I’m feeling better in myself.
At the start of all this, I remember looking at the training program and thinking ‘how the hell am I going to be able to run five minutes without stopping?’ And now I’m running 1.5km intervals without hailing down passing cars desperate for water.
And my pained expression has been replaced with a kind of steely determination. I have my girls to thank for that. My biggest (and littlest) fans have been riding their bikes alongside me, spurring and pushing me to keep going — encouragement that I am in dire need of when the legs start wobbling and I’m gasping for air.
‘‘Come on Mum, you can do it! One more minute,’’ they wildly cheer.
And if they’re not with me, the girls get on FaceTime to cheer me on from the comfort of their cozy couch.
Bless their little fit hearts. These girls of mine are part of the reason why I am doing this in the first place.
Of course, I want to get fit, improve my overall health and look hot in a bikini. But I also want to show my girls that if you set a goal, you can achieve it. No matter how hard or overwhelming it may seem at the beginning. No matter if it hurts. No matter how much you hate running.
Your children are an extension of you. They learn from and copy their parents. So you need to set a good example.
It’s all well and good telling your children what they should do. But showing them has much more of a lasting impact.
These are the things that go through my head as I am pounding the pavement, swearing silently as my knees and ankles scream in agony.
Which they will be doing over the next five weeks. Because I’ve got to go from running 1.5km at a time to 5km.
It’s a daunting prospect. I’m terrified of failing. Because all eyes are on me. Which means my eyes need to be glued on the path, in front of me. And all the chips and ice-cream I can eat when I finish that 5km run.