Have you ever noticed that some things seem like a really good idea in principle, and yet the reality of these ideas is somewhat less appealing?
I have volunteered to join a group of colleagues to walk 22 miles across the Cotswolds in a couple of months time to raise money for Breakthrough breast cancer. It’s an amazing charity – one that the company I work for has supported for a few years now, so when the e-mail came around asking for people to sign up for the challenge, I thought – what the heck?
They say that when a woman gives birth, the brain (after time) wipes the most painful/traumatic aspects of the event from her mind. It’s a species preservation thing. If she were to remember all the worst bits then there’s a strong likelihood that she won’t want to go through it again, and the brain isn’t haven’t any of that! It appears that when you slip a disc, the brain does pretty much the same thing in order to lure you into charity walks. As I pressed “send” on my e-mail registering my interest in joining the team, I had completely forgotten about the six weeks I was off work unable to walk, followed by the several weeks after that where I could only shuffle around looking like I’d had a childish accident, and I had absolutely no recollection of the months of chiropractors and physio appointments that I went through after that in order to get me back to the point where I could get out of bed in the morning and not be in pain. Clever brain. Stupid Natalie.
I seriously have no idea what I was thinking signing up for this. I’m not anywhere near as fit as I should be – my gym membership expired about two months ago, and since then I’ve been on precisely two runs (What can I say? The lure of Britain’s Got Talent has kept me somewhat glued to my sofa). I was discussing this with a colleague, and describing my general lack of motivation at the moment, and she came up with the “genius” idea of me hiring a fitness coach. Someone who’s only goal in life was to make me fit. Someone who’s there specifically to beat on me and bully me into fitness. Someone who wouldn’t care or sympathise if I complained that it was all too hard. Someone who’d work my sorry ass into the ground in order to achieve the ultimate goal of getting me somewhere close to being “in shape”. The idea was almost perfect. I say almost because the prospect of paying someone to be that mean to me seemed a little narcissistic. Besides...why would I hire one of these Rottweiler’s when I’ve already got one?
Cue Drill Sergeant Jonesy.
Oh she’s been waiting for this moment for a long time! Her Monica-esque anal retentive attention to detail with regards to her own diet and fitness regime has made her somewhat evangelical about the results, and she’s been screaming to convert me to her cult of the “downright annoyingly healthy” for months now, so I expected nothing short of sheer enthusiasm when I asked for her services in the coaching department. I wasn’t disappointed. Good old Jonesy – she does love a project.
She also knows me ludicrously well, and so in an effort to disarm me and put me on the back foot, she suggested a training planning meeting at the pub last night (you’ve got to love her style). It appears that after several large glasses of wine and a couple of Malibu’s I’ve agreed to embark upon the new regime as of Monday, and she’ll be dragging me out five times a week! As a result my chiropractor and physiotherapist have been alerted, and both have kindly cleared their appointment diaries in anticipation of me requiring their services. Still it’s going to be a long haul, so I think perhaps (in order to keep me on track and focused on the end goal) it would be wise of me to try and gather as much support as possible from all my lovely friends and family, and I think the best way you could help me, would be to help someone who really needs it. You can do this by sponsoring me on my walk through my just giving sponsorship page : http://www.justgiving.com/Natalie-Cooper3
Thank you for your support, and please... as you settle down to your dinner of an evening, spare a thought for me as Jonesy puts me through my paces! It’s been lovely knowing y’all.
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