My world has separated into two distinct worlds. In one world, I can talk about running. In the other, I cannot.
The division lines are fairly clear. Of course, I know that my running buddies can be counted on to discuss everything from training techniques, to what happened out there, to races coming up and of course, the marathon in October. It's a real little club of it's own, and one I never thought I would be a part of.
Then there is the others. The ones that I must either not talk about running with or conceal the fact that I'm into exercise completely. Not that exercise takes up all of my time, thoughts and energy. I normally talk of other subjects 99 percent of the time, but some people get really narky when you begin to talk about exercise. Work Husband, I can excuse. I'm fine with not talking running with him - I know the subject hurts him. My dream group get a bit militant about me exercising. There are a couple of others who I know not to mention the topic to - just leave it.
Part of me knows that some of the latter group are concerned. Two years ago I was morbidly obese. Though not slim now, I'm not in that weight bracket any more. I've also been training sensibly and hard for two years - I know my limits and I know my ranges, I make sure I stretch, and rest and cross train. The last year has been a wonderful journey getting in touch with myself and my body. Until last year something completely foreign to me and I'm enjoying the ongoing work.
There is another group who just can't comprehend what I'm doing. There is some jealousy and denial involved with this. But then again, I can get a little bored and stroppy when people go on about their children or their boyfriend/husband without drawing breath every time I see them. I see the similarities - non exercising people forced to listen to mad woman talking farklets, distance and sweat - it's comparable to an unmarried, childless woman having to listen to conversations about little Tarquin's bowel movements or the lastest wonderful witty thing that Mr Man of the Moment has spouted.
(Pandora retracts her claws)
And then there are the amazed - stay away from them.
There is a boss at Tin Can, String and Whistle who I see at our Friday Beer Club. I like Boss Man, he's an old school sweetie of an engineer. Read into this, if he were twenty years younger, HR would be having a field day. We talk now and then. He cottoned on to the fact that I've been running distance for a while. I remember our first conversation:
Boss Man: So, you know, my secretary trained up for the half marathon. She did it on the day in 3 hours 20 minutes and couldn't walk for three days after.
Pandora: Oh, really. I did that race too.
Boss Man: And how did you do?
Pandora: I got through in 2 hours 40 and I was fine the next day.
This perplexed the Boss Man. He took a sip of his beer and pondered a bit. Boss Man should have quit while he was ahead.
Boss Man: That's really good for a larger lady.
Every time I see Boss Man he shakes his head at me and repeats the words, "That's really good for a larger lady." I said HR would have a field day.
I'm tempted to retort one day "I may be fat, I'm working on it. You're old - nothing you can do about that."
Card of the Blog: Death. Slow, necessary, transformative change. Rebirth, reincarnation. A new life.
Kilometres walked since 29 January: 50 km
Kilometres run since 29 January: 27.5 km
Currently reading: What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami, Ultramarathon Man by Dean Karnazes
Weight lost since 29 Jan: 0.7 kg