As I close the blinds in the kitchen and pull down my pyjama bottoms, I’m sure I see a questioning glint in Rob’s eyes. Just as quickly the glint is extinguished as he looks down at the state of my legs. ‘Have you seen the size of this bruise?’ I ask. I turn my head and look down at the garish purple monstrosity on the back on my leg. In the middle, a nice gash, which I am now prodding to see if it hurts!
‘It’s a bit sore,’ I determine on closer inspection.
‘It looks it. You really do bruise far to easily,’ Rob responds.
I look down at the rest of my legs. Oh dear, it does look bad. If anyone sees me, they’ll think I’m a battered wife!
I feel frustrated that my attempts at getting fit always seem to be thrown back in my face. These latest badges of honour are proof of my most recent obstacle course race. Who would have guessed that chasing a yeti could be so damaging for my health! I think back to the time I knocked my shin on the coffee table. Ignoring the bruise, I went for a run …. only to be faced with crippling pain and the golf ball sized lump of a hematoma! Cue …. me unable to walk, iced up to the nines and leg elevated for the next week! Then there was when I took up pole dancing. Two classes in, my legs looked like I’d had a serious disagreement with the pole! Cue …. a fond farewell to that hobby!
Rob’s words of wisdom – ‘Stop trying to be something you’re not. I’m not being nasty, but your body obviously just wasn’t made for being fit.’ Well, what was it made for exactly? Being fat and knackered? Destined to be a couch potato, dying a horrible death drowning in a bowl of popcorn? I find myself thinking about my latest ‘sport’. Maybe I should tone things down a bit? No, wait, I enjoy it. How am I ever going to overcome these impediments if I don’t persevere? I wade through freezing lakes, climb over 20 foot cargo nets and chase yeti’s in the height of winter …. I am not someone who gives up at the first hurdle. My new motto is going to be – ‘adapt, improvise and overcome!’
I humph off, my feet stomping up the stairs as I go.
‘What are you doing?’ Rob calls.
‘Getting ready to go for a run.’
I just hope this time I don’t bring on another hematoma!