Work It Baby

In light of my fitness epiphany yesterday I had a quick look through my wardrobe to find the remains of my sportswear. Co-ordination is still a key issue for me, despite the fact that I am going to sweat profusely and resemble a tomato by the end of the session. Ordinarily I stick to my faithful Adidas three-quarter length leggings, Nike sports bra and one of Geordie’s hundreds of long sleeve running tops. There is a bit of a monochrome theme going on, excluding my black and purple Nike Air Alvod 9, and I feel comfortable having tight-fitting pants but a loose top to run in. Geordie however runs like a tramp, not physically but in the complete lack of any style whatsoever. The last time we ran Sefton Park in Liverpool he started a full-scale row as I refused to go out of the house with him, he was wearing light blue TWO stripe shorts that don’t even belong to him, odd socks that I’m assured were white at some point in the past, a half-marathon finisher’s t-shirt (very commendable) and a pink Nike drinks bottle. In hindsight I suppose I could have used this horrific crime to fashion/sportswear as inspiration to run like hell and distance myself from him, but I couldn’t get as far as the front door in case someone saw me with him. Eventually he relented and changed the shorts!

Call on Me (Eric Prydz song)

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have willingly been to various aerobics, zumba and boxercise classes and spent more time comparing myself to others, feeling like a frumpy idiot than concentrating on the end goal. I have had to endure women my age in neon green leggings and leopard print leotards with matching hair band, pretty sure it wasn’t the video shoot for Eric Prydz Call On Me and it definitely was the local leisure centre class run by an elderly but super-fit lady. One of the hardest parts of getting back into public exercise for me is feeling confident enough in my work out clothes to go out in the first place. I’ve been guilty in the past of slagging off those gorgeous skinny mini’s who make running 10k look like a skip around Tesco and those who had achieved the mecca of female fitness, definition not muscles, think Michelle Obama‘s arms! Where as now I can fully appreciate that it’s not done over night, there really isn’t any quick fix and in the words of the late, great Roy Castle, dedication is what you need. If I see anyone out running/jogging now my first thought is always ‘Good on you’ because they’re already doing a damn sight more than me, regardless of what they are wearing.

I have dusted off my Adidas THREE stripe and have blanketed Twitter, Ebay and GumTree looking for a child bike seat in preparation for the 5X50 Challenge, if I’m getting fit my kids are coming along for the ride.

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