running like that skinny boy in grade two gym class

Running. I have a love-hate relationship with it.  I’ve tried, here and there, I’ve gotten comfortable with my super slow pace.  I’ve decided to just skip it, mostly, these days, in favour of more comfortable forms of cardio, partly because my trainer suggested it.  Phew, I got outta that one.  What a relief.  It’s so overrated.  But I can’t avoid it all together.

I’ve done a few sessions with Jemal now, cross-fit/bootcamp in the park and I end up feeling like the little little kid in this photo, whether actually running or not.  I feel awkward and a bit embarrassed sometimes, partly because I’ve never been that fit person.  The chubby wallflower in me, the one that always was last to the finish line, emerges easily and suddenly sometimes during any form of exercise. But the sessions are actually fun, and I love the fresh air, the sense of play.  I’m starting to feel less like the chubby wallflower, and more like a fun-loving kid.

Recently I was doing a few short uphill sprints.  He told me to pump my arms more, get them really high up, and sort of ‘chop’.  I felt like a TOTAL idiot and it brought to mind an image of that guy in gym class, who always came in first in sprints.  That skinny kid that all the girls had a crush on.  He would run like that to show off if nothing else.

I remember how those lithe boys who just made it look so easy, and how they loved to show off doing that sprinting thing, arms pumping, hands flat.  It’s always seemed so…well nothing that I could actually relate to:  I was ALWAYS last in gym class.  Always.  I always assumed I could never do or be ‘that’, the exercise ‘type’.  The fit person. The first one in the race.  The one that looks natural and good running or doing other kinds of exercises.  I’m pretty sure I look ALOT like the kid in the photo above — at least I feel that way during exercise in general.  But the weird thing is that I’m almost OK with it. I want to feel like a little kid and if that comes with some awkwardness, so be it.

Funny how much perceptions of ourselves work to form limiting beliefs.

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