The weekend we found out that my grandmother wasn't going to get any better, I dragged myself out for a brisk walk around the lake. Looking back now, it was probably the last good autumn day we had, right before the quick descent into frosty mornings, dark evenings and wet afternoons.
I never thought I would be one of those people that looks forward to exercise. What I didn't know as a chubby thirteen-year-old is that just because I didn't enjoy rounders in my PE kit, meant that I would hate all exercise, ever; really, I just hadn't found the thing I did enjoy. After a sad weekend cooped up in a car and feeling useless about things, I just knew I needed to do something.
Maybe it is something to do with my need for control, but I felt like things were more manageable after getting air in my lungs. Maybe it's that when everything feels out of my hands, I can go and do something that I have decided on. Maybe, it is just that the ache in my limbs means I sleep more soundly, but whatever it is, it works, and I'm okay with that. It's hard to drag myself to a gym, at 5pm after work on a Monday night when it's icy cold, wet and rainy, but I am so much happier when I've been and I need to keep telling myself that.