Have you ever tried to google “Best way to stay fit and healthy”? Try it – you will, without doubt, pull up an endless list of links, each one claiming that they know the answer. Does interval training burn fat faster? Should you lift weights? Is walking better than running? Is the treadmill better for your knees than running outside? Should you work out three, four or five times a week? Every other day? Every day?
No matter what your question is, you will find at least ten different, probably conflicting, answers. Does this mean that what is written is untrue? #Fakenews seems to be everywhere these days.
How do we know what to believe? How do we know which method to follow? Are chia seeds good for you or do they just make your yogurt look more stylish?
This summer I had the opportunity to do various kinds of activities…
Other Than Mother
When my son was 2 years old, he wouldn’t eat. We tried everything. I threatened, I cajoled, I begged, I even did a food dance (don’t ask). Finally, I reached a point of complete despair and I called in some professional help. I was asked some questions and I explained my concerns. I told him how I had tried my best. He listened and then suggested that he take my son to a kindergarten for lunchtime. The condition was that I wasn’t allowed in. As you can imagine, I wasn’t happy about this loss of control (I haven’t changed much in the 17 years that have passed!) but I agreed…
It’s exam time!
I spend half my days feeding my children what I hope will fuel their brain, and the other half of my day persuading them to study/sleep early – depending on the time of day. It’s exhausting. Every day I wake up and I say to myself that it’s THEIR life, that they must be responsible for their studying. Every day I remind myself that they are decent and good human beings and that exams results are not everything. Every day I remind myself that when they are ready and mature, they will sit, they will study and they will achieve. Every day I remind myself that nagging them is pointless…
It’s the day after. I’ve stopped crying and I no longer feel miserable. In-fact I’m thinking of going for a run.
Yesterday I ran a half marathon. Half. It’s not even a full one. But it was enough for me.
It’s not my first and it probably won’t be my last due to the fact that a full marathon, at this point in my life, is just not a feasible goal. I choose to run in races – I know this, it was my choice. I even know why I choose to do this. I had 2 miserable hours yesterday during my run to try to figure it out…
The Children Are Our Future
Last Friday was the annual city running race. Every year they have a 3k and a 10k race. They close down roads and you get to run all the way up the high street. What I noticed this year was the families. It’s not really about how fast you can run 10 kilometres but more about how patient you can be with your 8 year old who has convinced themselves that running 3 kilometres is so easy they will be done in five minutes. The week before the race I ran most mornings. I saw a father running with his teenage daughter and his young son. The daughter had crossed the road and was refusing to run anywhere near them. I saw a couple of brothers running, one faster than the other – he would loop back to pick up the younger boy and carry on. I saw a mother with three little ones, jogging slowly but with a smile on her face as they, red faced, tried to keep up.