For three weeks before my surgery, and six weeks after, I have had no exercise more strenuous than an occasional walk in the park. And yet, when I climbed onto the weighing scales today, I found that I weigh 2 kilogrammes less than I did the last time I weighed myself.
My clothes tell me that even if I haven’t gained as much weight as I expected to, I haven’t lost any. I know I did not stop myself from indulging in chocolates, so the weight loss cannot be attributed to a better diet. Much as I would like to pretend otherwise, I even know that the weight loss is because of loss of muscle mass due to the forced sedentary lifestyle of the last few weeks. But whatever the reason, it is exhilarating to know that after years of trying to breach the 60 kg mark, I have finally achieved 58Kgs.
I wanted to celebrate the end of the period of enforced rest by a long jog. My stamina has, unfortunately, taken a beating, and I was forced to quit after just 20 minutes.
But a rather productive 20 minutes it was. Because of the forced sabbatical, I found I could not find the old rhythm. Which gave me the window to experiment with my stride. Maybe it will take me more than just a few weeks to get back my old form, but if in that time I am able to get used to the longer stride, I would be able to cover a lot more ground with the same level of effort – always a bonus in distance running.
All these weeks I have been getting restless because I was not able to run. I would be kidding if I pretend that I have not been slightly distressed thinking of the extra effort I would have to put in to reach my former level of fitness. But from that ‘calamity’ has come something much more precious – a better running technique.
Isn’t life like that? We get so easily disheartened when things don’t go exactly the way we want them to. But often, something much better comes out of it, which we chose to ignore. To quote the old chestnut, the same glass that is half empty is also half full.