Run, Forrest, Run.....

Today is Leap  Day, 29th February. Traditionally a day when roles are reversed and frustrated spinsters are encouraged to propose to their stubborn commitment-shy beaus and hopefully bag themselves a shiny new solitaire diamond  and a lifetime of wedded bliss. Wouldn’t it be nice if all things could be reversed today and we could declared today as “Negative Calorie Day”?  How awesome would it be if, on this date every four years, all foodstuffs consumed would have a positive effect on our  waistlines?  How fantastic if we could have a government-endorsed Gorge Fest, safe in the knowledge that we were contributing in a good way to our health?  Sadly this is not the case, and no trying to justify to myself will change the cold, hard facts that I have no excuses to stuff my face, and that  I if choose to do so then I will gain weight. Sad but true…..

I had a little taste of this the other week when my husband and I took a well-deserved Valentine’s Break to a spa hotel not far from  us. We had a lovely time, mainly, there were a couple of hiccups, such as having to ring up reception to demand our sparkling wine and chocolates which were supposed to be waiting for us in our room on arrival; the ‘breakfast in bed’ which arrived 45 minutes late and stone-cold; and the fire alarm incident (an alarm went off which  unfortunately caught us during mid-afternoon sparkling wine and vodka fuelled – ahem – ‘recreational activities' in the hotel room  – cue frantic, drunken searching for clothes while the alarm screamed away, only for it to turn off just as we reached the door..). 
But apart from that a fabulous time was had by all. 
Alcohol was drunk, chocolates were scoffed, a large three course meal was consumed and the Plan was well and truly abandoned for 36 hours….And do I regret it? Not really…

The Monday morning after what has become fondly known as my Valentine’s Blowout (no innuendos please..), I had the day off work as it was Half Term for the kids. So I booked myself in for a morning weigh-in with my consultant. I rarely have weigh-ins before 5pm as I’m a staunch 9-5 er so I exploited this opportunity fully.  I abstained from breakfast, took in minimal fluid and donned my lightest clothing in the hope, despite my weekend indulgences, that the scales would be kind. I was very fortunate, and that day I was advised that I had lost another 2lbs, bringing total weight loss to 10st 2lbs. 
I was utterly thrilled – I had got away  with it!! 
However, my sage consultant had some words of warning for me not to rest on my laurels. In her experience with other clients, she had seen what I would call the “Stealth Weight Gain”. This is a bit like the “Stealth Hangover” when you wake up the Morning After a heavy night feeling fresh as daisy. Do not be fooled, for by teatime you will be begging for death when the full force of the alcohol hits you straight in the face…
The Stealth Weight Gain can also catch you unawares, making it’s presence felt at a subsequent weigh in, just when you thought you were out of the woods. I am very glad that this warning was imparted to me as I am sure that, otherwise, I would have been highly tempted to continue on the slippery slope of indulgence believing that “it wouldn’t hurt”. It would be so easy to convince myself that, as I had got away with once, I could get away with it again. Dangerous thinking…
So, armed with this knowledge I aimed to be resolute for the following week, sticking 100% to plan, drinking my water and staying with the exercise. At the consequent weigh-in I stepped excitedly on the scales, expecting a typical good weight loss. Instead I found that I had stayed the same. 
The prophecy of my  wise adviser had come true – the Stealth Gain had manifested itself, albeit in a lower form, but there was no doubt that the scales were repaying me for my indulgence. 
I am very grateful on two counts, firstly that there wasn’t an actual gain, and ,secondly, that I heeded the advice from my consultant. Had I not, I’m convinced that I may  have had to temporarily hand back my Ten Stone Rosette until I had rightfully earned it again.

Apart from the aforementioned Monday, I sadly had to work for most of the kids’ Half Term holiday , but I was afforded a day off on the Friday.  And, boy, did I make the most of it!  I took my son, and 18 of his 10 year old rugby playing peers (plus a few extra parents – I’m not completely masochistic!) to a nearby trampoline warehouse where had booked the kids in for two hours of, hopefully, Half Term Energy expending fun.  On the day we had a spare, prepaid ticket, so one Mum and I decided to split this in a one hour session each of adult bouncing on the trampolines ourselves. I was a little trepidatious but also determined to have a go – because I could.  Just  nine months earlier I wouldn’t have been able to, mainly because I was one and a half times over the weight limit for the apparatus, but also because there was no way my unwieldy, obese body could have handled the exertion. Even until recently I probably would have turned down the opportunity, afraid that I wasn’t up to the effort and also incredibly self-conscious that the view of a large lady attempting to spring  across the warehouse, chunky limbs flailing and muffin-top undulating,  would have instilled a mixture of mocking amusement and abject fear into my fellow trampoliners. I’m sure there would have been cries to keep the first aid kid and defibrillator close by!  Not so this day! Tentatively I donned my “special socks” and tiptoed to the battle zone. My first bounce was a bit of a disaster as I had drastically underestimated the sheer bounciness of the nets, and I rebounded dramatically to land flat on my back.  Dignity – disposed of!  After that I slowly got the hang of it and found myself dashing around like Tigger, having a whale of  a time. I felt 10 years old for the first time in, well, nearly 36 years. The freedom I felt was just so liberating and empowering. Now, dear reader, at this stage, I feel that I better place a warning – a kind of disclaimer to “ladies of a certain age” . Thankfully I had been warned by a fellow Rugby Mum who had previously participated, of the toll that defying gravity rigorously and rhythmically can have on one’s Pelvic Floor. And, that, my dears, is another warning that I am grateful for. I came prepared with  a suitable stash  of Tena Lady, and thus was, thankfully, saved the shame of being evicted from the warehouse for eliciting an evacuation of the bouncing area “for  sanitary reasons” and accruing a subsequent cleaning bill.  If you are reading the previous paragraph with puzzlement, get your Mum or your Wife to explain to you, and be grateful!!!

The following day I was expecting to suffer from Bambi Legs, but I was surprised to feel just a small twinge in my my upper thighs. What really hurt were my shoulders, and I can only assume that this was from flinging my arms about, Windmill-Style, in gay abandon as I bounded from net to net like the reborn child I had become.
This experience has been very enlightening and has made me realise how much I have missed out on whilst I was carrying the additional ten stones plus before I finally decided to shed them. It really hit home when I asked my son what his favourite part of that day had been. He looked me in the eye and with heartening sincerity, said to me “It was when you joined us, Mummy. I loved bouncing with you and seeing you have so much fun”. 
Those words, I can tell you, really hit me in the feels. 
Suddenly I was filled with an overwhelming regret and remorse for the times that I didn’t join in with activities with my children. All those times I sat on the side-lines watching them, feeling fat and ungainly. So many opportunities lost. 
At that moment, I decided “never again” and am already planning my next physical ventures with the kids. My daughter and I have signed up to do the Race For Life together this June. She begged me to do it last year and I found myself incredibly relieved to find the date clashed with a family event. This year – no excuses, and now I have to put my money where my mouth is. Training starts imminently.

Speaking of running, I recently found myself watching the movie Forrest Gump. It is a very cleverly written movie, well deserving of the Oscar accolades, and is packed with wisdom and analogies for life. Regular readers of my blog will already be aware that I am fond of using movie anecdotes as metaphors, and it was during one particular sequence of this great movie that I kind of saw parallels with my own weight loss journey.  Stay with me…this will hopefully become clearer as we go along….

The sequence I am referring to is where the eponymous hero, Forrest, after losing his beloved Jenny once again, decides to don the running shoes that she gave him as a gift , and just “go for a little run”. Before he knows it, he has reached the far end of his town, so he decides to continue to the end of the county where lives. After that, still feeling the need to run, he opts to run right across his state and, before he knows it , he is running across the whole of the United States, several times….

He does this for “ three years, two months,  fourteen days, and sixteen hours”, attracting a following and media attention as he goes along, before he finally decides his running days are over.

So where am I going with this little analogy? Read on, and hopefully you will be enlightened…

Now that I have lost over ten stones in weight, my weight loss has become undeniable. People notice it. People remark upon it. And people ask me questions about it. 

One of the questions I am frequently asked is “what made you want to start losing weight?” . And my answer is “I don’t really know, I just decided one day to do it”. 

Unlike for some, there was no ‘lightning bolt moment’, there was no one key incident or event, no terrifying photograph that inspired me to finally do something about the weight that was dangerously encroaching on my health and longevity. 

There was none of that. One day, I simply decided to “Just Do It”. 

Like Forrest, I just decided to ‘go running’. 

Also, like Mr Gump, I didn’t really have a goal to achieve, I had no idea how far I was going to go. So I set myself little landmarks. A Stone weight loss, three stones…five stones…100 pounds…And, just like Forrest, when I got to those points “I figured since I'd gone this far, I might as well….just keep on going”. So I did…In some ways, it was as simple as that. One day, I just got up, decided to go for it, and, before I know it, the miles (or in my case pounds) were far behind me.  Most days I didn’t really focus on where I was going, on where I had come from, I just kept my eyes on the road ahead and ran. As our hero did, “When I got tired, I slept. When I  got hungry, I ate.” But the run continued, and much was gained from it. 

Later in the film, Forrest recounts the wonderful sights and experiences he encountered purely from running through the places that his running shoes took him. I can certainly relate to that, since I started on my journey I have met some amazing people and enjoyed some fantastic experiences that would never have come my way had I not decide to embark on that run and just keep running.
Another way I can relate to Forrest’s running is the attention it attracts as he does it. The media follow him on his journey, and people join him as he runs along. Forrest recounts ... “Somebody later told me.....it gave people hope. Now I don't know anything about that”. 

Now I hope that this doesn’t make me sound big-headed, but I understand this, as I have been told countless times by people seeing my success that it has inspired them to do the same. In fact, I even have my own band of ‘runners’ who follow me and have joined me on my journey..”  - friends who have taken up the plan and members of my Facebook group, which now numbers more than 950. A little like Forrest, I am also asked by people to help them out, and I try.  However, as it transpires in the movie,  those asking for my help discover that they are more than capable of helping themselves out. They just had to run along a little and learn to turn misfortune to opportunity.

Ultimately, just like in the story, I did not set out to make a spectacle of myself, or to inspire people – “I just felt like running”. And run I will. The road is mine, if you care to join me, I’d be grateful for the company.

Unlike in the film, I do hope that, when I decide it is time to stop running (when I reach my target) that I do  not leave behind me a band of disillusioned followers with no direction , asking “Now what are we supposed to do?”. That is not what it’s supposed to be about. I want to be able to pass on the torch on and watch others blaze on ahead, as I head back “home”, safe in the knowledge that I am changed forever by my effort and experience.

In his summary of the experience, Forrest says:  “My Momma always said  you got to put the past behind you before you can move on. And I think that’s what my running was all about”. And that is what I am endeavouring to do – to leave behind the fears, the regrets, the excuses that stopped me dead in my tracks.

Every journey starts with that first foot forward, and, as Forrest proved, you don’t even need a reason to do do it. Just start running. I’m still running, and who knows where the road will take me…Wish Me Luck….