Unfit for purpose

Here comes the shuttlecock…over the net…flying invitingly for me to dink over a little return…all I have to do is make it before it hits the floor…here we go……..Error: Body Says No.

What the heck? I’m routed to the spot. Where’s my fitness gone? Even with the wrist strength of anorexic octogenarian, I always used to have speed over a badminton court in my favour. Tonight, I might as well tie my shoelaces together for the amount of movement I’m getting. Midway through the first game and my heart is beating faster than an Animal drum solo.

If there’s one thing I’ve realised since running the marathon, it’s that being unfit is much worse when you know just how fit you can be. With niggling injuries since June, my running since then has been sporadic at best. Just when I think I may be getting back into it, something else happens to interrupt it.

Two weeks ago I ran five miles outside, after a successful couple of stints on the treadmill. I was tired, I dragged myself through the last two miles, but having the knowledge that I’ve previously run a shed load of miles on empty means I can keep going if I get it right mentally. My “Don’t you dare quit unless injured” rule also works. So aside from aching shins (having been hunched over in my tired last section) I was ready to go. And then the day before a planned run I got sick. Very sick. Sicker than the sickest dog sick. For the squeamish amongst you, please move on after the next bit, as here’s a brief account:

Mmmm…bottled  water. Hang on – looks like it’s been opened before I bought it. Let’s take a sip…yuck! Throw the rest away and eat your salad. At least I only drank a little bit. Can’t be that bad, can it? It’s only water….

Ahhh. home. Tummy feels a bit tight though. Strange. I feel I might be…uh ohhh…

There goes the salad. At least that’s over with. Although, maybe not…here I go aga…

Somebody kill me. Kill me now. Every $%^&ing ten minutes! Oh my god. This has been going on for five hours now and I’ve seen every single bit of that salad now. Enough already. No, please no..let me die here next to the bowl, no more…

Everyone else who had the salad was fine, so just my luck to pick that water and put an end to my weekend before it’d begun. Great. It also left me weak for a few days after; I didn’t have the energy to put my shoes on, let alone run in them.

Feeling better, the following Saturday arrives and I go for a 4-miler with my mate, who starts off at a pace quicker than my normal start. By the end of it, I’m totally knackered, praying for the end. Muscles feel fine, but I’ve seen asthmatic darts players with better cardio fitness than me.

It doesn’t help that I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been (not by much and far from overweight, but still…) and have an ear problem where I get a bit dizzy during exercise. But I’m determined to get back into it and get fitter than ever before.

My body will say yes. Whether I’ll actually play a decent shot back on the badminton court is another story…

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