Once upon a time, many, many, moons ago, I applied to be a civil servant. My application was successful and I was trained for six months to be a Police Officer. Yeah, I can almost hear you say, SAY WHAT?
Well, idleness and some other factors got me applying in the first place. Never thinking that I would be accepted in the first place. I was accepted and HUMBLED.
After a very long wait, I was summoned to the Police College.
Now as the last born, I had approximately 6 – 8 bags, as mum was told that we will be trained in a remote area and we would not be able to come home in the 6 month period whilst attending training. Multiple bags later we arrive at the Police College and we are awaited by Police Instructors at the gate of the College. My first thought was wow, they must be very excited to see us. But then.. I visualized college to be very glamorous, like on TV series’. Where the hairstyles and outfits are on point and life is a breeze. Clearly not. Well, those instructors did not keep staring, they started shouting and long story short, and I was left to run with all those bags from the gate of the college to the main eating hall. In retrospect, it was not a far distance, but yet, for a very spoiled, chubby last born, 100metres or more felt like 5kms.
Upon arrival at the main eating hall we were chased some more and half of my bags ended up with a fellow male student. They made us do several exercises before having dinner and we were not allowed to walk anywhere, everything needed to be done at a jogging pace. Why, only they would know. I invited more trouble into my life by having a fellow male student carry some of my bags, as male and female students were not allowed to look at each other.
NXOOOOOO
Imagine all those bags. I really do not even remember what was in those bags. Clothes, food, bedding, you name it.
Soon, many other students arrived from all over Namibia, and some were a bit tipsy. I think they also shared my thoughts on how college life would be. They were abruptly disappointed. Now, ask any person how alcohol and extreme exercise go along. Not well.
We were made to do push-ups, sit ups, run arounds, marches, and the list goes on.
And naturally, as unfit as I was, an hour or so in, I got an injury. I think I faked 80% of the injury, I just needed time to catch my breath. Hailing from Walvis Bay, I was dressed in a very tight Levi (Levi’s was a thing back then), and pair of upmarket sneakers. Ask the class of 99’.
So I exaggerated the injury and the instructors had this hilarious way of treating injuries on duty.
Here I was thinking that I would at least get a time out due to the injury, meanwhile the time out is you parading around mimicking an ambulance, hands in the air, sound effects and all. Naturally, you turn out to be the laughing stock of the entire academy and your fellow students, so it is more of an embarrassment than anything else and you would think thrice to fake an injury again. Just try and get that image in your mind, a chubby girl in a tight Levi, mimicking an ambulance – Sound effects and all.
You all know by now that I committed myself to a healthier lifestyle since 15July 2019.
It is 31 July 2019 today and yesterday, was my first day back at the gym, after a minor injury I encountered the previous week. AMBULANCE.
I hurt my ankle badly and I could hardly move when I eventually got home after the gym and I consulted my GP and I was instructed to take it easy for 5 days. I was so happy I could rest, as exercising is no fun, not when you are this BIG in size, it is painful and humiliating and after every session, I hardly sleep because my entire body is in pain. EVERY TIME.
Which results in me being grumpy 60% of the week, and hating my trainer.
My personal trainer introduced me to my new friend two weeks into our training programme.
The Sled.
From the moment I looked at it, I knew I am not going to like it.
I have seen it on shows like ‘’Revenge Body with Khloe’’ and I never thought in a million years, that we would also have encounters with each other. Now it is ‘’Revenge Body with Anke’’. I have realized after last night’s session that I need to like this oke, otherwise it will just be pure torture and I would be tempted to pull a few ‘’ambulance’’ tricks, which will just prolong my journey.
Last night after losing three days’ worth of work outs due to the ankle debacle was a total nightmare in the gym.
I WAS PAINED.
My friend – The Sled joined too this time with 10kg of weights added. Things got interesting.
Of all the things I had to do in my life, I will rate this hands down as the most difficult thing I ever had to do.
My mother’s death was excruciatingly painful. It felt as if someone ripped out my heart just like that and left me bleeding. I can say with conviction that what I experience daily now physically in the gym comes close to that level of pain physically. I kid you not.
God, can I just die already? How did I not exercise, how did I not look better at what I eat, DAMN YOU ANKE.
I find running just so difficult, and as a trained police officer back in the day, I ran 4kms daily.
The doing part is easy, but when I finish I am so short of breath for so long it hurts, I huff and I puff and I huff and puff like the big bad wolf in that children story (blame it on the one cigarette per day). Yes, I should stop smoking I know. Each to his own.
And mind you, after running with my friend (the sled) pushing it with the 10kg of weight across the gym and back again running, I should not rest but jump straight to my second leg of my exercises, but my personal trainer is still nice and allows me to catch my breath. So after my third rep, I started feeling extremely bad physically. I just could not get my breathing to stabilize and although I tried so hard to breathe in and out my chest tightened. I thought to myself, this is not how I am going to die.
I cannot explain why my body reacted the way it did, if it was some sort of a panic attack or just my body not being able to function with the amount of exercises and not having enough fuel in my body to sustain it. My trainer gave me a time out and I was almost in tears, I wanted to cry for my Mamma, as grown as I am. The whole scenario made me think of my Police College days, I was a total ambulance, but this time not faking or exaggerating an injury.
Someone the other day said, why were you so honest in your first article? Don’t you feel ashamed? Especially sharing your weight. And I said no. But I meant NO. I don’t even flinch one bit. Ashamed of what? My body, my obesity that I need to live with? Read that again: I DO NOT FLINCH ONE BIT. Because this is what Anke is about. The idea of sharing this journey with the world which not many perceive, is to be unapologetically raw, authentic and real in a world where everything is so pretentious.
The thing you are most afraid to write, write that.’– Unknown
Xoxo
Until next time.
Curvy Scorpio
