Opening my eyes, keeping my head still, thinking of the night before. Oh no, I agreed to take part in a fun run. Sliding out of bed I stand in front of the mirror, something I always try to avoid. I look like a gnome, skinny legs and a pot belly. Adam, my husband, walks in.
”Morning beautiful.”
Turning, blubbering, I tell him I’ve signed up to a fun run with the girls. Ever practical he tries to convince me that it will be fine and he will help me.
A morning spent nursing a hangover with copious amounts of coffee and biscuits, I search through my wardrobe for anything to wear. Stella is picking me up to start training. I grab sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, wait apprehensively.
Breezing in, ”Ready to go Faith?”, Stella looks me up and down. ”You need new clothes.” She bundles me into her car, we head to the local sports shop. ”You need these,” holding up a pair of leggings. ”Come on try them on.”
Honestly it’s like trying to fit a whole doughnut in your mouth, any movement the whole lot roll down releasing a tidal wave of blubber rippling down. Looking me over, she decides we will buy them, as once I have done my training they will fit.
‘Off to the park for a stroll,’ she says.
It starts off well enough, walking faster and faster. By the time we have done one lap I collapse onto the nearest bench, barely able to breathe.
”I can’t do it Stella.”
She ignores me. “Same time tomorrow.”
Getting home, there are more shocks. Adam has been on the internet. He comes up with a healthy eating regime and he signs us up for the local gym. ”We can do it together it will be fun.”
Blood sweat and tears is how the next few weeks go, until one afternoon I find myself actually enjoying my run. Losing weight is an added bonus and spending time with Adam at the gym turns out to be fun, as he is always joking about the machines.
I’m now the proud owner of my first medal. Stella keeps pushing me to do a half marathon, but I think I will just enjoy my new found hobby with no pressure.
