Going back, again and again

Occasionally, when I was feeling particularly day-dreamy and the reality of putting one foot in front of another wasn’t near, I could imagine myself running the Jozi roads, gazelle-like. You know those lithe-bodied runners in fitness gear with their long blonde pony-tails swinging from side to side behind them? They looked so free. I really liked the look of that freedom.

The reality is that I walk pretty damn slowly. The more accurate term would be that I plod. And it’s actually pretty hard for me to move quickly. My body is the polar opposite of lithe. Also, I’m a short haired brunette and I haven’t had a long pony tail since I was 12. I shall save my rant about fitness gear for another post.

It guess wasn’t too bad in the beginning. Attending the sessions was a novelty and even though I didn’t particularly love the walking, I felt quite sanctimonious about my new activity. I.Was.Exercising. I couldn’t wait to be asked to fill in a medical or insurance questionnaire and answer “YES” to the question about whether I was physically active. (Side note: almost a year later, I’ve still not had any questionnaires to complete!)

Here’s a confession: I feel like I’ve spent a lot of my life being a quitter. Especially when things aren’t as easy as I wanted them to be or when I’ve realised that I’m not particularly good at something. I’ve been actively working on this not-so-great personality attribute. With this in mind, I forced myself to go back to RWFL the following week, and almost every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday for the few weeks thereafter. Of course, the fact that I had just paid over an annual membership fee helped with my commitment. I didn’t want to waste the money I’d just spent, so for the next few weeks I just kept going back and waiting for the fitness, freedom and lithe body to kick in.

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