After running a 10k, starting to survive circuit classes every week without almost falling over the next day and managing to do box squats, I hurt my hip. It was a pretty bad level of hurt too. It almost came out of its socket (as gross as that sounds it’s not that bad when you’re hypermobile like me) and I had to develop a new walk where I looked a bit like I was trying to be Snoop Dogg. Or Lion. Or whatever.
I had to take two more weeks out of exercise after another previous injury (some sort of sharp leg pain every time I moved, good fun all round) so I became disillusioned again and started feeling like my bad health would win this battle.
My bad bad mood and defeatist attitude was made a little better by the osteopath I went to see for my sore lower back (a result of my new gangster walk to compensate for the hip business) who told me I looked muscular. She also told me my upper body was wonky but you can’t win them all. She told me to wait until I got back from my two week holiday before fully getting back on the wagon. A whole month out of running, classes and any form of progress after reaching my best level of fitness. Big thumbs down.
It made me dread the actual holiday because I was looking forward to feeling and looking better than ever while I pranced around beaches in bikinis, and the whole thing suddenly felt pointless (hello hormones and crying at dogs on TV). That’s a bad way to look at things, I’m aware that my bikini body isn’t the real reason for all this, but it still made me feel like I had wasted my time.
I snapped out of that in time to go away, just about and remembered this was about the bigger picture and being well again.
It turns out though that my constant low mood and iritability and general lack of good spirit was a lot down to being desperate for a break. Before this holiday I had reached the most tired I’ve been since I started full time work 4 years ago. I felt like every morning was climbing a mountain. I stated going to bed at 9:30 and still feeling awful the next morning. I also had some really sexy blue/purple bags hanging out under my eyes.
I’ve definitely put weight on in the past month, I’ve definitely lost some fitness level and my toned stomach is looking less each day, but I feel a million times better. There’s nothing like beaches, sunshine, a serious vitamin D boost and some time out to watch the sea roll in at you. I haven’t been on a holiday like this in a long time but 10 days in and I’ve reflected on being a bad mood for about, erm, three months. Sorry boyfriend.
The last seven months have been quite strange. Overhauling my entire fitness regime (which before was basically taking the stairs instead of the lift) has been more mental and a test of willpower than physical. I never realised the amount of willpower that would be required to keep up the routine- I just thought it would become habit and I would be fit enough to handle it without barely breaking a sweat after a few months. I was very wrong. My health isn’t ever going to give me an easy ride but set backs won’t win. I’m ready to get back to my routine, and probably weeping after my first circuit class in 5 weeks.