Aside from knee replacement surgery, I’m stuck with my crunchy knees – at least for now. In my concerted effort to strengthen this far from perfect body, I joined my teenage son on a run last night. Now, when I say run … I actually mean walk, even though I may even managed a very slow jog on two whole occasions!
The art of walking. As easy as breathing, but then I did that wrong in Pilates. I couldn’t have looked more embarrassing, as was kindly pointed out.
“Jesus, Mum, your socks don’t even match. And don’t even get me started on those red trousers.”
My plan to ensure he ran ahead worked and I was left to work at my own pace while he, rightly, being 25 years younger, ran ahead.
Like most parents, I want to be a role model for my kids. Getting educated, however late in life, was one way of doing that for me. Getting my fat bum off the sofa every night is another. But, as a rule, we are an active family. My eldest goes to the gym most days, my youngest plays football, goes to karate and is always at the park with his Dad, but I do feel it’s important that my boys see me active too. As much as sometimes … I’m just too damned tired!
Life is about balance. A scone today, a powerwalk tonight. Xbox this morning, washing the car this afternoon!
And with “Mum, why’s your face so red?” still ringing in my ears, I know my crunch knees and I have a long way to go.
The Art of Walk is a battle I will win, but it’s not the war. That’s going to take a lot longer.