So, since I went to Uni, I've gotten a bit chubster. It's not fun, not enjoyable...
Too many late, messy nights, followed by greasy chips or a Subway, to wake up and eat the leftover pizza in my fridge. Too many headaches to exercise. NOT cool!
But it's alright, I can sort it out.
And I have started.... I've taken up running. I'm a student, the gym is not affordable, plus there isn't one near my house, and I can't drive (apparently petrol is such a precious gem that the stupid government charge prices that could buy you diamonds instead of black goo that runs your car with). Grrrr.
Running however, is one of those things that takes time and perseverance to be good at... and I am NOT, I repeat NOT good at it. I look like a frog whizzing around the inside of a French persons blender, arms and legs flailing around all over the shop, a red face and wobbly bum. I want to cry, I can't breathe, I start to feel like I might be sick (apparently this means it's working... really? it hurts) and I look behind wishing I was tucked up in a nice comfy bed with cushions and a slice of toast in one hand, chocolate milkshake in the other, watching Geordie Shore, or some other time wasting crap. I wish I looked like a pro... like everyone I seem to pass on my 'travels'.
Then I realised... yeah I'm superbly bad at it, but at least I'm actually trying... there are people out there who wouldn't even give it a go! No-one is gunna judge me for being froggy when I run, they probably hit the same wall as me along the way, it's getting through the initial pain of it that will make it worth while.
I can't wait for that day!! Off to try on my new pink running shirt...