Warning: Fat Girl Jogging

Today, kids, we're going to talk about exercise and its importance to your health.

*snort* Yeah, no, it's not that sort of blog. But I am going to talk about exercise - jogging, to be precise.

Being a very large woman and a supporter of size acceptance doesn't mean that I promote sitting around all day, eating junk food and burping the alphabet, no matter what my Husband tells you about me. I actually enjoy exercise and would like to be more active! And so, I started the Couch to 5K program.

And then it ended. The end.

Well, I guess there was a LITTLE bit more in between.

 A little.

Turns out that when you start Couch to 5K and you think, "Oh wow, I'll be running 5K in no time!" while imagining yourself running all sexy-like in slow motion, hair blowing elegantly in the breeze as "Born Free" plays that you've seen too many movies with sexy-like joggers and are maybe a little delusional.

Such was I.

I imagined that jogging would be a breeze and that it would just come naturally.

Here is a photo of me after my first attempt at Couch to 5K.

Turns out my breeze was actually a hurricane. And that was just after jogging for one minute a few times for less than a half hour!

Crawling up the stairs to my third floor apartment, if memory serves me right, I believe I told my husband, "Leave me, leave me! Save yourself! *sob* Just leave me some water...some chips if you have them..." before curling up in the fetal position and whimpering a few times. 

Even though my first attempt at Couch to 5K left me less than enthusiastic about my chances of actually accomplishing this program, I decided to press on. I went out a few days later with my Husband to try again, and things went a bit better. I was immensely proud of myself that I only vomited twice! But I started noticing a very severe pain in my back and legs. 

The third time I tried, a few days later, I was only able to make it one minute jogging before the leg and back pain left me limping to a nearby picnic table. Sliding one leg behind me while limping with the other, I called out to my Husband in a raspy voice, "Master! The plans! The plans!" 

Three days later, this very morning in fact, I decided to try one last time, this time on my own. I got up at five am, got my "fitness" clothes on (aka pajama pants, a man's wife beater and my tightest bra - I don't want to lose an eye!) and made my way outside to the empty road. I decided to just walk and jog on the streets around my apartment building.

Ten minutes later, as the debilitating back pain set in, I realized that I possibly, maybe a little, kinda, probably, sorta, might have made a tiny, minuscule, itty bitty big mistake.

Limp two steps. Stop and moan. Limp two more steps. Stop and moan. That's how it was the entire hour it took me to get home from the street beside my apartment building. I vaguely remember using a tree to try to alleviate the pain and stress on my poor back and legs - that tree will be in tree therapy for years. Sorry Mr. Maple Tree, for my violation.

When I got home, I stretched a bit like a good amateur jogger, then laid down in my bed and let my dream of "Born Free" jogging with my hair blowing in the breeze pass on and go to dream heaven.

Instead, I now have a new dream! A dream of WALKING all sexy-like in slow motion, hair blowing elegantly in the breeze as "Born Free" plays!

Let's face it. Imagining that starting an exercise program like Couch to 5K and that it wouldn't be incredibly hard work is like imagining having a baby and that you won't have any labor pains - I think I must have been high on the chocolate icing that I had been stealing spoonfuls of out of the container in the fridge (Note: Don't eat cake at my place). 

Couch to 5K will have to wait. I still intend to do it once I condition for it, but right now, I think I better start with Bed to Couch. I'm starting a new program next week where the walking and jogging is a little more my level, after my back injuries have healed. 

But if you're in Oakville and you see someone along the street in the fetal position, whimpering and mumbling something about chocolate icing, please call my Husband, tell him where to find me and that I require a large steeped tea and a glazed donut from Tim Hortons. 

Thanks.