N. F. Kenure
My holiday officially ended this week. Monday morning at 4.30 am, I got up and began dressing for the gym. I realised it was raining heavily, who am I to mess with God’s plan? Does it matter that my workouts are at an indoor gym and less than three minutes drive from my house?
So no, I did not work out, thank you very much.
Instead when it was time for breakfast which I have at 12pm, I served myself the biggest plate of fried rice, chicken liver and two boiled eggs.
What's this life about if we can’t just relax?
From small relaxing o, next thing I knew I had spent the whole day eating.
At 2:00 AM, I was wide awake and hungry.
Maybe because I never really eat breakfast, I'm really into breakfast foods at all other times of the day. I find and cut off a large chunk of Ebeano’s unsliced bread. One day, I will tell you about the bread at Ebeano by Chevron that comes out of the oven about 1 pm with me waiting right outside.
I fried four strips of bacon and stirred in three eggs into that good grease, because ‘whom the gods would destroy they first make mad’.
Tuesday morning, the first bad news is a new muffin top. I pull on my workout clothes to find small lobes of hanging flesh.
Wow! You had to go there.
There can be no more excuses, it’s all fun and games until I don’t fit in my clothes anymore.
And yet, right in the middle of cardio I kept thinking,
Why? Why am I doing this to myself? What’s all this about?
I wasn't even doing any heavy duty stuff. I basically ran on a treadmill at intermittent speeds for thirty minutes, flipped some tires so I could pretend it was leg day, and walked around catching up with gym buddies. Then while putting on my socks, I pulled a muscle. Incase you missed that, I pulled a muscle while tugging on a sock.
The next day, I was as sore as an enthusiastic virgin bride.
I need something to push me. I can’t have coffee any more (a whole other story).
I need inspiration, I am carrying a little extra in my midriff because pounded yam won’t let me be great, but can’t I just enjoy myself a little longer?
And then I see this on Twitter.
Angela Bassett is sixty.
Look at sixty yall!
Yes, working out is great for my heart. Yes, physical activity will probably keep off arthritis that my father has and I’m so scared of. Yes, lifting heavy and especially leg days makes me so tired and really helps with my insomnia. There are countless other reasons for working out but las las don’t you just want to look and feel badass?
The Queen of a fictional, but awesome -in every sense of the word- African land, is all the inspiration I need.
Wherever you are in your fitness journey, I hope you keep pushing.
Aug 20, 2018