By Josh Broadhurst, Deputy Director of Politika and Edited by Tom Guyton-Day
Since my teens I've always hated exercise. PE wasn't my strongest subject, never liked playing football, and cross country at secondary school was always some fresh hell. Yet here I am, after almost 4 months since the start of lockdown, fighting fit, running 5km 3 times a week, and losing 20lbs as a result. So what sparked my drive for fitness?
I was always in the bottom set of PE in school. I excelled academically, but PE was a class I would always use as an opportunity to chill. Little exercise, control of the music, and just an hour where I could spend time with friends doing very little. This attitude to exercise developed into a loathing by my late teens and adulthood. That is until January.
Fat. A word many don't think about, but one that cuts deeper than people realise. That's what I was in January, and it's what I was called. It's funny how little things on the surface have such an impact deep down in a person. Being fat wasn't just being fat. It meant I was unattractive, not worthy of any kind of attention, and in a way being called that just made me feel second class compared to everyone else.
Rightly or wrongly, being called fat by some narcissist sparked my drive to be a fitter person. It made me upset but also angry, not just at the insult, but at myself. I was angry about the slippery slope I had been allowing myself to fall down for years. So I took a decision that started me on a road towards change. I downloaded Couch to 5k and endeavoured to not stop until 1) I completed it, and 2) I felt attractive, more attractive than those I felt were looking down at me.
5 weeks in everything was going perfectly. I was losing weight, I could feel my body getting fitter, my running times were getting better, and my distance was slowly improving. So how did a 9 week programme take me 6 months to complete?
On February 23rd I was in a car accident. I was rammed at 30mph from behind by another driver whilst queueing in traffic. It left my lower back muscles in a mess, my arms weak, and left me with an anxiety that sparks when a car approaches from behind. For 3 months I had to recover. I attended sessions of physiotherapy, had to be careful when working before lockdown, I physically couldn't carry heavy things, and I had to give up running.
For the first month (March) I managed to keep my weight off. But in April and May I put that same weight back on again, until I was right back where I'd started in January. Overweight, feeling useless, generally feeling low about my physique, thinking of how much work had been wasted, with that word "fat" going round and round in my head.
However, I did see a slow recovery. Daily physio exercises on my back and arms, regular hot baths to loosen muscles, and gradually upping carry weight, meant my body was slowly getting back to a more normal condition. By mid May I felt able to start again, but not without psychological barriers. I would have to start Couch to 5k all over again.
I was always in the bottom set of PE in school. I excelled academically, but PE was a class I would always use as an opportunity to chill. Little exercise, control of the music, and just an hour where I could spend time with friends doing very little. This attitude to exercise developed into a loathing by my late teens and adulthood. That is until January.
Fat. A word many don't think about, but one that cuts deeper than people realise. That's what I was in January, and it's what I was called. It's funny how little things on the surface have such an impact deep down in a person. Being fat wasn't just being fat. It meant I was unattractive, not worthy of any kind of attention, and in a way being called that just made me feel second class compared to everyone else.
Rightly or wrongly, being called fat by some narcissist sparked my drive to be a fitter person. It made me upset but also angry, not just at the insult, but at myself. I was angry about the slippery slope I had been allowing myself to fall down for years. So I took a decision that started me on a road towards change. I downloaded Couch to 5k and endeavoured to not stop until 1) I completed it, and 2) I felt attractive, more attractive than those I felt were looking down at me.
5 weeks in everything was going perfectly. I was losing weight, I could feel my body getting fitter, my running times were getting better, and my distance was slowly improving. So how did a 9 week programme take me 6 months to complete?
On February 23rd I was in a car accident. I was rammed at 30mph from behind by another driver whilst queueing in traffic. It left my lower back muscles in a mess, my arms weak, and left me with an anxiety that sparks when a car approaches from behind. For 3 months I had to recover. I attended sessions of physiotherapy, had to be careful when working before lockdown, I physically couldn't carry heavy things, and I had to give up running.
For the first month (March) I managed to keep my weight off. But in April and May I put that same weight back on again, until I was right back where I'd started in January. Overweight, feeling useless, generally feeling low about my physique, thinking of how much work had been wasted, with that word "fat" going round and round in my head.
However, I did see a slow recovery. Daily physio exercises on my back and arms, regular hot baths to loosen muscles, and gradually upping carry weight, meant my body was slowly getting back to a more normal condition. By mid May I felt able to start again, but not without psychological barriers. I would have to start Couch to 5k all over again.
I couldn't come out of lockdown having achieved nothing. I had to start running again.
The first 5 weeks were absolute hell. As I ran, all that rang through my head was "you've already done this, can't believe you're doing it again, what a fat mess, that useless you can't even pick up where you left off". It felt so tedious. I just wanted to give up, because what's the use in doing again what's already been done? It's like cleaning up a mess, and then finding it's been created again 10 minutes later.
I persevered however. I got past the 5 weeks barrier, and oddly it became so much easier. How does running further and harder become easier after that 5 weeks? The physical part of me was constantly improving, but the psychological barriers had been largely ripped down. Running is obviously physical, but it's also a massive exercise in a person's willpower. With those barriers eliminated, my willpower was through the roof. I felt as though I could do anything.
By week 6 I was doing 5km runs with small walks, and by week 7 or 8 the walks were totally eliminated. It felt brilliant. I was running 5km without a rest. My weight was down. I felt good about myself. I could only go up. I was actually loving running. I could truthfully say "I love running!!"
So I carried on, and by the last run of week 9 I was running 5km in less than 30 minutes, achieving a personal record of 26:10 for 5km, something that would have been unimaginable in January. I'm no longer that man who could barely pick up a decent pace. I'm now a runner, who can do 5km comfortably, who is fit, who's now lost 20lbs, and still wants to go further on this fitness journey. All because someone called me fat, sparking a series of thoughts and events.
That person's opinion doesn't drive me anymore. To be honest, I don't think it ever truly did. My own self improvement drives me. My own self esteem does. I've come to realise that their words only meant something to me because I knew they were true, I knew how I felt about myself, and I knew I wasn't comfortable in my own skin.
This journey has taught me a lot. It's taught me to value myself. It's shown me how hard it can be to be knocked back, and have to start over. But most importantly, it's shown me what I can be if I put my mind to it, and work hard to achieve it. Even if it feels impossible, remember we all have to start somewhere.
I persevered however. I got past the 5 weeks barrier, and oddly it became so much easier. How does running further and harder become easier after that 5 weeks? The physical part of me was constantly improving, but the psychological barriers had been largely ripped down. Running is obviously physical, but it's also a massive exercise in a person's willpower. With those barriers eliminated, my willpower was through the roof. I felt as though I could do anything.
By week 6 I was doing 5km runs with small walks, and by week 7 or 8 the walks were totally eliminated. It felt brilliant. I was running 5km without a rest. My weight was down. I felt good about myself. I could only go up. I was actually loving running. I could truthfully say "I love running!!"
So I carried on, and by the last run of week 9 I was running 5km in less than 30 minutes, achieving a personal record of 26:10 for 5km, something that would have been unimaginable in January. I'm no longer that man who could barely pick up a decent pace. I'm now a runner, who can do 5km comfortably, who is fit, who's now lost 20lbs, and still wants to go further on this fitness journey. All because someone called me fat, sparking a series of thoughts and events.
That person's opinion doesn't drive me anymore. To be honest, I don't think it ever truly did. My own self improvement drives me. My own self esteem does. I've come to realise that their words only meant something to me because I knew they were true, I knew how I felt about myself, and I knew I wasn't comfortable in my own skin.
This journey has taught me a lot. It's taught me to value myself. It's shown me how hard it can be to be knocked back, and have to start over. But most importantly, it's shown me what I can be if I put my mind to it, and work hard to achieve it. Even if it feels impossible, remember we all have to start somewhere.
I am Josh Broadhurst, and I love running.
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