Running

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It is running season here.

I’m not a matchy-matchy clothes kind of runner. There’s no Lorna Jane activewear lurking in my drawer.

Instead, I wear one of DorkyDad’s old gym vests that I rescued from the op shop pile. There are battered trainers that I should probably get around to replacing, and a pair of shorts that are older than DorkySon. On sunny days, I pull on a cap that was a freebie at a university event. Red on black: Save the Tassie Devil.

I’m not a competitive runner either. Not even with myself. An occasional glance at the default health app on my phone tells me that I run somewhere between three and five kilometres most days. There are routes I know I can do in 15 minutes (ish) when the air is cool and still. But on those syrupy nights when the sun is still bright above the mountain, I know it’ll be more like 20. I don’t measure time or distance any more accurately than that. Continue reading

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Feeling Good

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I’ve had a post brewing for a while now about some of the changes I’ve made to my lifestyle since moving to Tasmania, but it was only on reading this lovely brave piece about motherhood and body image by my friend Emily that I felt compelled to rescue my notes from the drafts folder and pay them some attention.

Something about living here has made me feel more compelled than ever before to get in better shape. I think perhaps part of it is that exercise and healthy food can so easily become part of your routine without it being a huge effort. Like Emily though, I have not been aiming to hit a particular dress size, or a certain number on the scales (we don’t even own a set of scales). I just want to feel good in myself and I’ve been trying to approach that in a sensible way. Continue reading