The other night I was in bed at a fairly decent hour, at least by my standards. It took a while to relax, though - I couldn't find any sort of prone position where my legs weren't still in complete and utter agony. Lying straight, curled up, sitting - everything below the hamstring was having a Bad Time.
And the cause? Saturday was Pokémon GO Community Day, and from 10am-5pm my friend Tom and I had been walking all over central London catching Charmander. According to my Fitbit, I'd taken over 25,000 steps. In probably the most practical and comfy running shoes I own. AND YET! PAIN.
So yeah, I'm unfit.
Age and fitness are still something my body and I are struggling to embrace. I spent about 22 years of my life as an energy-filled twig who could eat his weight in anything and just burn it off by bouncing a leg. This combined with asthma in my adolescence meant I never felt the need to keep "in shape", despite warnings that things would slow down as soon as I hit adulthood. The gym has always been fairly alien to me, and not even committing to the membership has done much to aid in that.
So fast forward to 24, when i began spending 8 hours a day behind a desk in my first full-time career position, getting up only to eat. Not a great combination for someone who has never figured out what a rep is. I still probably haven't gained as much weight as a person in my position ought to have; but I definitely don't know what to do with the bod I've got. Climbing stairs too fast? Bad. Lifting heavy objects? Less bad but bad. Running? SHINS SAY EXTREMELY BAD
Working from home and (primarily) alone has... not done much to aid this. For context, working in central London every day meant that I was always at least close to achieving my daily goal of 10,000 steps. But when you roll out of bed and to your desk, a whole day can go by before you eventually come to peace with not leaving the house.
Such days have become more and more frequent as I also try and responsibly budget how much I'm spending on random little luxuries like coffee; and the mindset wherein every moment that I'm not working to earn a living is a moment wasted, means that even getting outside for fresh air has been bottom priority.
All this is unhealthy. I know, I get it.
I'm surrounded by people who take care of their bodies. To them it's become a ritual that does wonders for their brains as well as their physique; and yet somehow I still refuse to be anything but some sort of domesticated pizza goblin who refuses to do anything that would benefit either body or mind.
I guess my aim in writing this is to, I dunno, hold myself accountable? For once? I think vocalising a lot of my biggest hangups with my day to day is a start in combatting them. Reaching 10,000 steps is going back into my daily goals; it's a small start, but one my body needs, and will hopefully get me out of the damn house every day. Once that's back in rotation, then we'll have another talk about the gym.
I promise this is not going to become a fitness blog.