Rocking it like Ndereba!

Everyone has one of those days when you feel like you added more than a couple of kgs in the middle of the night. Like you slept and woke up 2 sizes larger.You look at yourself in the mirror and the only thing you can think of is "I used to be so hot!" You're probably hotter now but hey, women lie, men lie but mirrors don't lie.

Yesterday was one of those days.

Due to some forces of nature and the incompetence of Kenya Power not to mention the rising cost of fuel that caused our generator not to be fueled, I ended up home way earlier than expected. Way way too early. So down the road I go heading home and all I can think of is how I have not walked or run or done any kind of exercise. Even by accident. No robbers have chased me down the street, I haven't gotten stranded in a desert and had to walk in search of water, I haven't seen anything important falling and had to dive to reach it. Just nothing. I was unfit and worse, I had woken up feeling fat. I wasn't fat the day before but yesterday, I felt like I had gained twice my weight in retained water and random fats from sausages and cookies.....(nb: cake will never make me fat. I should always remember that!)

So the closer I got to the house, the more I was convinced that I needed to do some exercise, any form really. Blame my desire to challenge myself. Blame my luck of foresight. Blame the shape of the moon and its ability to make me delirious and stupid. But I decided to run. I was going to hit the ground running. No need to ease myself in with sissy exercises and stretches and such.

So for a couple of minutes, I wasted my time looking for my running clothes. That was before I remembered that I had put my "gym" bag in the boot of the car sometime late last year with the intention to run. They were as clean as I last remember. I could have sold them at "mutush" fr a fine profit. They sort of shined into my face as I smiled proudly at my ill-conceived decision. (cue in Hallelujah song. and a light bulb)

I strapped my sneakers on. The ones with the pink that marched the pink on my StanChart marathon t-shirt. Diva in the area siyo. I looked hot and fit and ready to run for my weight. I was running for all that was good in my body. For my skin. For my liver. For my kidneys and heart. But mostly because I needed firm skin and glowing skin. I needed my firm skin to glow. But first things first. I walked down and ate the samosa and sausage that I had bought earlier.(It is bad to waste food.)

Out the door I went. Run, baby, run. I smiled. I did good. At the end of the first km, everything seemed to hang. Everything did not include my clothes. It meant my skin, my thighs, my cheeks. I left home with a firm body and now every step seemed to make everything shake more and more. Why did I ever think that this was a good idea? I had half a mind to go back. But then again, it was only half a mind. Then this really old looking chap came whizzing past me looking like he had never had a disease in his life. I decided I could do another km.

The next couple of minutes were not too bad. I was getting used to the shaking meaty parts. I could do this. Then I started to itch. Everything on every part of my body was itchy. Like little things were crawling over me with little metal legs. It was impossible. I told myself that those were bitter toxins getting out of my body. Shindweni. Trying to make me lose my resolve. I was going to run regardless.

Then my lungs collapsed. Just before my knees and then I started seeing dim.Like there was water in my eyes or something. My eyes were actually steaming up. I think I was sweating from every part of my body. my skin, my insides, my eyes. Everything was sweating. Well maybe my eyes were crying but I didn't care. I was exhausted and far from home. And in a stroke of brilliance, I had left my phone at home. Great, now I couldn't even send a 911 text. That was if I could text in the first place.

(a bad decision can only be learnt through experience!)

On the final stretch after considerably semi walking-semi crawling, I decided to do a slow jog. It would get me home and into bed faster. 3 minutes into this effort, a familiar car passed. OMG, number 1. The Lord is good. He slowed down, I sped up then he sped off. He later told me he thought I was doing so well, he figured he'd waste my efforts by offering me a ride. I could have killed him with my dagger eyes.

I did eventually get home. With no thanks to myself. For 7km of torture, I rocked it like my girl Catherine Ndereba. I hear she was running behind me for a while there. She never got to me.I figured I was running way too fast for her. But the reality might be she just turned off at the next corner. But technically, I was rocking it with my gal, Cathy.

(please tell me you can see the resemblance.it's uncanny!)

Will I be running again. Probably, maybe. Just as soon as my feet recover and I can walk without looking like an overstuffed duck.