Flatter my this, flatter my that…

I am riding high on the wave of endorphins. Running is going really well and I am even managing to enjoy the gym despite it’s soul destroying monotony. I am doing one (at least) or two (has happened in the past few weeks) 21km runs a week. Can’t help but be a bit worried though as whenever running is this good it usually means things are about to go horribly wrong (ever the optimist, me!).

A few interesting things of late:

Last week Thursday I was coming from the gym and saw the National Blood Service trucks right on my way home. I have always wanted to donate blood but the last time I looked into it, the process was very convoluted (and I obviously wasn’t THAT desperate to donate as I was put off by that). So I knocked on the door and queried about how it worked. Before the nurse even got into the details she asked me how much I weighed – kind of an interesting question as I wouldn’t have said I look that starved that I wasn’t meeting their healthy criteria but upon hearing the numbers she was satisfied. I was told to go home and eat and drink (the desperate plea for me to have a shower was there between the lines – like I said, I was fresh out of the gym) and come back in the afternoon. So I did that.

The process was very simple; a couple of forms, a finger prick test to see my iron levels were ok and before I knew it was lying down with a needle on my arm, clenching my buttocks (apparently that helps the blood pressure!?). I felt fine afterwards; not dizzy or anything. It wasn’t until that afternoon that I realised that I might have a problem with the long run on Saturday. I felt pretty tired on Friday which may or may not have been due to the blood donation. I managed to do my 21km on Saturday but I did feel pretty fatigued. However, I happily put up with having a tough run if the upside is that I am contributing to the blood supply that may help save someone’s life. You never know what that someone is you.

And then the other thing:

Yesterday (having done a 16km hill run that morning which included a hill that is over 1km long) I was walking back from the shops with tons of food shopping when a car stopped beside me. I had my headphones on so the man who stepped out of the car gestured for me to take them off and I thought he needed directions. Instead, he handed me a business card and told me that he was a personal trainer, specialising in kickboxing. I was confused. I asked why he was giving me one of his cards (now, I was hot, sweaty and carrying enough stuff to feed a family of 12 so don’t blame me for not being able to formulate a more coherent question). He said (and here comes the part that could be considered a bit smarmy and a humble brag on my side): “Well, you have a fantastic figure and you clearly look after yourself”. I know it still doesn’t quite explain why that would mean I need his services but I cannot lie – this kind of marketing works (on me)! He was pretty matter-of-fact about it and I was definitely flattered. I could choose to look at it the way my husband does (Wow, that’s some marketing, does this guy just drive around all day chatting up women?) but instead I have decided to accept the compliment. After all, I felt he was basically saying: I can tell you work hard and I can see and appreciate the results. He wasn’t telling me I had a great rack or an ass like a peach – that would have earned him a slap across the face.

This made me realise something; I do work bloody hard. I put in the time, the effort, the blood(blisters), sweat and the occasional tears. I don’t make excuses and I don’t let myself off the hook. I lose toenails like cats shed hair. I don’t allow for off-days and I make sacrifices in order to facilitate my running or the gym days. And I have been doing it for me, for the kick I get from the endorphins and from noticing things don’t jiggle so much anymore. But I would be lying if I said that it doesn’t give me a high to hear someone tell me they saw all that. Now, THAT is how you flatter someone who puts in hours and hours of hard work into making their body strong and fit – tell them you can see they work hard.

And as for the kickboxing; well that is very tempting. I get aggressive when I exercise and that might be the perfect hobby for me.. We’ll see..

4 thoughts on “Flatter my this, flatter my that…

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