Time: 68 Minutes
Distance: 9.1 KM
As I type this, two men are currently drilling into the outside of my unit. Of course, since my unit is made of concrete slabs, the sound reverberates throughout the whole building and, well, it’s bloody loud!
I’ve been thinking about the future a lot recently. A lot of this stems from being only a few weeks/months away from handing in my PhD, the thing that has consumed my life for the last 4 years. It also stems from me turning 30 this year. It has also got me thinking about exercise…
When I was 20ish, I weighed around 108-110 kg. I was overweight and the two years of poor food that I was eating at University meant that I had really let myself go. Every month I would try something that would help me lose weight- “Ok, from now on I will do 100 sit ups every day” “Ok, I am going to walk every night for 1 hour”.
It never worked as I always gave up. I remember going to a party and my mate Murray poking my stomach, which now hung over my belt when I sat and saying “Jeez whats that”. A few months later, I decided again that enough was enough and decided I would join a gym. I told my then girlfriend about this decision and she just chuckled at me and said “Yeah… ok”. It hurt but it was a legitimate response considering my previous attempts. But I decided I wanted to try prove her wrong. So I signed up to the gym and started exercising. I lost a few kilograms that first week (water no doubt) but stepping onto the scales and seeing that difference was all I needed, I got hooked.
By my 21st birthday, I was 84-85kg, I had pecs and even a hint of abs.
However, a few months later I started to put the weight back on again. I had begun to move from weightloss exercise to muscle exercise. I remember I got to the point where I lost my kneecaps in muscle.
However the weight gain also was due to me going through a particularly terrible bout of anxiety attacks which resulted in me even going on meds. It caused the end of my relationship and really altered my life. I got over it, but the weight slowly kept creeping up.
In September 2010, I decided to start trying to lose weight after peaking the scales at a massive weight. Since then I have probably lost around 15kg(33 pounds). Five of those have been since the end of January when I have started to really think about my eating habits.
Seeing the weight melt away, albeit slowly, gives me renewed vigour. I doubt I’ll ever get down to 85kg again, I am almost 30. But something in the normal healthy range would be great.
So how is me discussing the past have anything to do with the future? Well, I am wondering how much this run will change my life. Lets say I get to 3000km. Let’s say I get to my goal weight. I celebrate, have some drinks and wake up the next day. Will I continue running or will I simply say “Yep it’s over”.
Running has changed me a lot in the last few months. I’d like to think that the day after I hit 3000km, I will tie on the shoes and go for a jog. I’d like to think that this has changed my life for the better and that Hugh, who would never be a runner, will continue to do so. Has this changed my life to the point where as I will always be a runner? I have to admit I am addicted now, I have a love/hate relationship with running but every day I grow a little fonder of it. By the time I get to 3000km, will I be at the point where it is something that I will need to do… not just want or like last time will I stop exercising and slowly get fat again?!?!
Time will tell- hey, maybe I’ll just try and run 4000km next year instead.