My running friends are growing. And I don’t mean in stature. I mean in size. Well, I don’t mean in size INDIVIDUALLY… I just mean there seem to be more of them. Runners, that is.
More and more are commencing ‘learn to run’ programs, while others embark on 10km runs, and then there’s the odd marathoner or two.
Besides the fact that I’m fat and unfit I’ve never been a runner. Even when fitter and healthier. Indeed, even when anorexic and exercise-obsessed.
I’ve been trawling through Taking Shape’s website this morning.
Given the amount of weight I’ve gained since I last worked none of my previous work clothes fit me. And – hoping I’d never work in an office again – I gave a heap away and sold the more expensive stuff just after my seachange.
I’m again joining Kirsty for her ‘I must confess’ challenge and today’s question is…. Do you feel beautiful? Why, or why not?
Eek. In my current headspace this could be a very dangerous topic and as I’m also vaguely (and occasionally) doing an alphabet challenge in April, it seems fitting that today’s letter is U. And we all know U is for UGLY.
My last two Friday posts have referenced an interview between Elizabeth Gilbert and Brene Brown. As I’ve mentioned, I find both women inspiring in terms of their outlook(s) and approaches to life and creativity.
And I swear this will be the last time I mention that podcast but I couldn’t let it go without mentioning yet another point of discussion… related to martyrdom.
Kirsty’s prompt for this week’s confessional asks us to share our biggest roadblock.
I had a post all planned – about my writing – and the fact that I don’t even try. I blithered about my fear of failure and my apathy but… the post wallowed in my drafts folder and I didn’t get it finished before heading off on a long long work trip yesterday.
It gave me time to think however… and I realised, if I’m really being honest, my biggest roadblock – when it comes to life in general – is my weight.
I thought I’d continue with a couple of themes I’ve raised recently on the blog.
I almost ventured onto this topic when I wrote about adulting… and the fact that – at 48yrs of age – I tend to look around for the adult in the room when things get too complicated.
And then there was last week’s post about failure.
