A million years ago I used to be a runner.
Every Saturday I would get up at crack of dawn and head to my favourite running route in Santa Monica. I would run by huge mansions, past the beach down to Venice and by the time I got back to my car all was right with the world. I ran with nothing but my thoughts and returned each time not only feeling stronger but with a strange sense of calm. Fast forward almost 10 years and if I tried to run that same route I would probably die. My knees aren’t the same and I’d much prefer to just sit and people watch or perhaps read a good book, forget the running.
I’ll use winter as an excuse but I’ve become lazy. I’ve become too accustomed to ordering take away and sleeping in so when I decided to break my unhealthy streak and channel some of my long lost fitness regime it was a rude awakening. Getting back into the routine is always the worst part but with each day I’ve felt better, like some part of my old self is beginning to shine through.
Jimmy and I have started to cook more, visit the local markets and just try ever so slightly to be a bit healthier. It’s a good change and although I admit a lot of this energy comes from vain motivation for our trip to Paris where I want to get fit and healthy just so I can eat cheese, croissants and drink copious amounts of red wine, it’s a step in the right direction.