Week 13 was another week of no exercise due to the injury. However, this post is a bit like Back to the Future and I can reveal that in week 14 there was exercise. Spooky. In the meantime I thought I would share what happens when you start training for a Moonwalk marathon.
You have heard of the 7 ages of man but have you heard of the 7 stages of the Moonwalk marathon? Not as catchy but then I am no Shakespeare. However, during my Moonwalk marathon training last week I had an epiphany. A moment of pure clarity. No it wasn’t, “stop torturing yourself and head to your nearest McDonalds and order a big mac.” It dawned on me that training for the Moonwalk marathon involves stages. It is like the seven stages of man but with a moonwalk and exercise. Also, like a Shakespeare play there is tragedy or perhaps one tragic person, me. Tragic as I am, I thought that I would share my pearls of wisdom with you. What really happens when you start training for a Moonwalk marathon, AKA
The 7 Stages of the Moonwalk marathon preparation
Stage 1 – Optimism
This is the optimistic stage. You are full of bravado and cheer. You are Rocky, an Olympic athlete, why stop there? You are a superhero! You have convinced yourself that you can do a Moonwalk marathon and that it will be easy. Next thing you know you have signed up for a Moonwalk marathon. This probably occurred on a Friday night after one too many glasses of wine. You and a group of mates probably had a WhatsApp chat about it.
Me: Yaaaaas great idea, let’s do this.
Lisa: It will be brilliant.
Lou: Yeeeeeeeeeeees! Something positive. We should do this.
Me: We can totally do this.
Lisa: Shall we do the half or full marathon?
Me: The full marathon!!!
Lisa: errrrm, yaaaaaaaaay.
Me: We will walk it. (see what I did there). Guys? Guys?
Then the next day you wake-up and remember what you have done.
This leads us into stage 2
Stage 2 – Denial
This is where you try to forget what you have done. You bury your head in the sand. Oh it’s months and months away. I don’t need to start training yet. You tell yourself that you are going to start after Christmas. You don’t want to start now in case Trump hits that red button or North Korea fires that missile. You don’t want to waste time exercising when one of these could happen. There are bigger things to worry about. The Moonwalk marathon will have to wait. You set yourself a deadline. I will start New Year’s Day. But then you are still feel hungover from New Year’s Eve and you are still feeling bloated from Christmas so you put it off until the following week and then…
Stage 3 – Panic
It dawns on you that you have run out of excuses. You are going to have start exercising. You then start and remember why you don’t exercise – you hate it. You spend this stage sobbing on a treadmill and running at a snail’s pace. Every time you are exercising you find yourself fantasising about the food you are going to eat when you finish. You are tired, grumpy and seem to have a permanent stitch. You worry that you are spending so much time on the treadmill that you have forgotten what it is to walk outside. You miss walking just because you have to. Like going for a walk to the fridge to get wine out. Now you are walking further and further and running longer and longer that you wonder if you are known on the island as Jersey’s very own Forest Gump.
I don’t want to do a Gump, exercise is not like a box of chocolates.
Stage 4 – Smug
Then just as you trying to come up with your excuses for not doing the Moonwalk the smug stage hits. You start to find that you can run for longer. You even start to enjoy exercising and you look forward to getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise. On an evening you don’t spend your time watching cats on YouTube but instead you are looking for new exercise gear. You are no longer grumpy, it’s far worse, you have become unbearably smug. You start making everyone in your family eat healthily and you say no to wine. You lecture everyone and anyone on the benefits of exercise. In your head you have become that Olympic athlete. You start to consider entering the next Olympics. You picture yourself on that podium being handed the gold medal. You can hear the crowd cheering your name. You are going to be the new Tom Daley. Except you can’t swim or dive and you are a woman, minor details. But still the press will love you and you will bring out your own cookery book and have a documentary crew following you around. You are doing so well that you don’t need a rest day, rest days are for amateurs…
Stage 5 – Disaster
You realise that you aren’t a superhero, nor an Olympic athlete. Nope, you are an idiot because now you have an injury. A serious injury. You veer from hysterical “why meeeeeeeee?” to moments of calm; normally after you have taken the very strong painkillers. After you come to terms with the fact that this injury is not going to heal overnight you decide that there is only one sensible course of action. You milk it. You wallow and act like the Queen. You eat what you like, when you like. This mainly consists of very unhealthy beige food. You even demand cheesy rice one day but your requests are refused. You sit so long on the sofa that there is now a wide bum indent. This is a cruel reminder of the weight you are piling on from your diet of doing nothing and eating beige and brown (Easter eggs) food. You watch an entire two series of Girls and develop an unhealthy interest in your neighbours coming and goings. You are convinced that one of them is a spy and that the other is having an affair. Just as you start to lose your marbles…
Stage 6 – Tentative
You are finally recovered and you start to exercise again. However, you are no longer bolshie. Every twinge or ache has you questioning whether you need to stop, you find yourself talking to yourself “ooh, was that a twinge?”. You have nightmares about injuring yourself again. You spend far too long warming up and warming down. You are no longer full of bravado. You don’t run around boasting or punching the air like Rocky. You have learnt the hard way that this isn’t about being the best, it’s about surviving. Your dreams have been dashed: your feet are wrecked. You just want to make it to the end of the Moonwalk in one piece.
Stage 7 – The End
Not like the 7 stages of man. I hope that the end for me is the end of the Moonwalk. I hope that I get to complete it. However, what I realise now is that there are no guarantees!
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
All the world’s a stage – Shakespeare
I just hope I make it to the end with everything intact. Wish me luck.
If you would like to donate
The only thing keeping me positive (emotional blackmail, me? 😉 ) is your donations. Please donate. This is for an important cause and I am more determined than ever to complete it.
If you would like to show me that all this torture is worthwhile then you can do so below. Thank you