I’ve turned into one of those women who permanently runs around in leisure gear and training shoes but who rarely sees the inside of a gym.
Those were the days, when I was young and carefree and could actually move my ass, and move it quickly when I chose.
At some point in the last few years, my normal walking pace has became a definite waddle. That’s obviously to compensate for the middle-aged spread which has settled comfortably around my middle. It seems comfortable. As its owner, I’m less comfortable about my new permanent ring of fat! Even breathing in does not make a difference…arrrghghgh
When I was a bit more sprightly I made exercise a priority – it wasn’t even an effort. It was just something I did at least 5 days a week every day before work.
Now it just feels like hard work. Work for which I am not paid and for which I have no motivation!
The weird thing is that when I do occasionally drag myself to the gym – it’s full of people in their fifties and sixties. The grey nomad brigade, clogging up all the treadmills and exercise bikes at 10am in the morning. But I admire them and if they can do it then surely so can I.
I nagged my husband for a year to buy a treadmill to use at home. Finally he relents and we get the thing. I’ve been on it about 4 times. It makes a great coat rack and that is largely what we use it for these days.
I just dont know how to get back the exercise habit.