Why I Love … Running

This post is by Kate Freeman of Kate Freeman Nutrition.

Exercise, to me, is like a drug … well, from what I know about drugs, because I’ve never actually used them. But from what I’ve heard, engaging in vigorous physical activity gives me a similar rush.

Now, I hate putting on my runners and walking out the door but I love the feeling I get at the end of the training session—this amazingly worn out feeling, though I’m energized and alive all at the same time. Exercise makes me view my body more positively, gives me a better perspective on challenging areas of my life, and is the best stress relief technique I’ve ever come across.

It hasn’t always been this way. I use to be a fad exerciser. I’d do something for a couple of weeks until the novelty wore off, and then I’d go back to being lazy again. I took for granted that I was a healthy weight, had healthy bones, muscles and joints, and had a body that seemed to function perfectly.

Then I got pregnant.

By the end of my second pregnancy it had been over two years since I’d engaged in regular physical activity. I had been a bit sporadic—maybe a walk here and a Wii Fit session there—but nothing consistent. Nine months of morning sickness for both pregnancies had left me tired, depleted, and terribly unfit, not to mention hemorrhaging with my first labor, which left me borderline anemic.

The first time I actually did anything more than a walk left me breathless and feeling like passing out after about ten seconds.

Where was my fitness, my stamina, my motivation? It was all gone. My body was way below par and my fitness destination seemed too far from where I was to even begin the path of restoration. My once healthy weight felt like it could balloon at any second. I had to do something.

One thing, only a little thing, was enough to kick start me into action. Here’s the story.

I was eight months pregnant with my second child, and I remember groaning as I pulled myself off the lounge. Every part of me ached. My feet felt like they were burning, I half choked on the acid reflux that came up my throat as my uterus crushed my poor little stomach that felt like it was already in my armpit. My hips were shooting with pain when I made any kind of quick movement, and my poor neck said, “If you vomit one more time, I’m going to pack it in.” Well it didn’t really say that, but I’m sure if it could talk, it would have.

I used to watch this Coca-Cola ad on TV with these perfect, skinny girls running and jumping around, all happy and energetic. I’d go green with envy as my whale of a body, could barely get itself out of bed in the morning.

How I wished I could be like those girls: energetic and carefree. How I wished to have my pre-pregnant body back. If I did, I wouldn’t take it for granted this time. I would look after it, be a regular exerciser, put good food into its tummy and keep it healthy.

That day I made a vow to myself—a promise that I would forever keep. When this baby was out, the exercise was on! It seemed I hadn’t realized what I had until I’d lost it. An unwell pregnancy had made me very grateful for the healthy, functioning body I had before my babies—especially when I realized there were people out there in far more difficulty than I was in.

Three weeks later I held my little baby boy in my arms and revelled in immediate relief from my horrifying pregnancy hormones. No more vomiting, no more reflux, no more hip, neck, back, foot, or body pain. I was back.

After waiting the customary six weeks, and catching up on much-needed sleep, I got the all-clear from the doctor and I was back in business. My vow was still very much in the forefront of my mind. So thankful was I to not be pregnant that I didn’t want to waste a minute. On went the joggers, a new fitness outfit (purple and black, to match my shoes), and my favorite music tracks.

Two minutes into jogging, I felt like I was going to die.

I could have given up then. It all seemed too much, and I was never going to get my fitness back. But my vow came back to me. All I could hear was my own words in the back of my mind, “You promised yourself, Kate. You remember what it was like to not be able to exercise. Now you can, so don’t miss your chance”.

The next day I gave it another shot, and I got a little bit further. Every time I wanted to give up I remembered my vow, and I remember the feeling of having the opportunity to move my body taken away. The next day I tried again.

My son is now ten months old. I have been exercising consistently for about eight months now. I can interval walk/run 10kms with my jogger pram and have lost 7kg. And I feel great. I’m so happy with my body, I feel confident in the bedroom with my husband, and I have so much energy. I sleep like a log and a month ago I bought a $200 pair of jeans. They go right on—no fuss, no muffin top, just nice.

Don’t get me wrong: there were a couple of highly stressful events during that time when the exercise stopped for a week or two, but the promise, still echoing in my head, made me get right back into it again. I’m not a fad exerciser any more. I’m a consistent exerciser—and that’s the key.

I became a runner because it doesn’t cost me anything, I can take my kids (I have an amazing twin jogger stroller), I can work as hard or as easy as I like, I can go when I like, and it gave me my fitness back. I could start out slow—just a couple of minutes at first—and then build up more and more endurance. I didn’t have to spend heaps of money on equipment or gear, either.

I’m a runner because it taught me patience, endurance and perseverance.

If you have lost your fitness, or maybe you never had it and think it’s all too hard—don’t give up. If I can do it, so can you.

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Kate Freeman is extremely passionate about providing honest, simple nutrition advice and doing it in such a way that inspires and motivates people to make positive lifestyle changes to achieve their health and nutritional goals. She is married with 2 children and lives in New South Wales, Australia.