The Motivator

courtesy of www.weheartit.com

The "Office Podge" look is not one I am particularly proud to admit having but one I have learned a great deal from. It can't be denied for a start.


I work in an office, sitting at a desk from 9-5 and on occasion longer, when the need has arisen. Over the last couple of years after these full days of work I would go home and log onto the pc and start studying for an MSc (which I completed this year after 3 years of hard graft!!), leaving next to no room for exercise. And so The Podge would grow and grow resulting in the following embarrassing adventure.

While the weight had gone on it would appear I was in a state of denial about it and was persisting with the same dress sizes as I had always had. This consequently had the effect of splitting the lining of a very nice skirt and dress I had recently purchased. They are very smart and pretty work clothes and it seemed a shame to let them hang unappreciated in a dark wardrobe. So I took them into Edinburgh to get the split seems fixed. . .

Late night shopping is a Thursday and my husband and I took the chance to do a bit of shopping in Edinburgh before heading into the alterations shop - who shall remain nameless for reasons which shall become apparent shortly. We went in with the dress and skirt in tow and I explained to the seamstress what the issue was and could she fix it for me.

There was a considerable pause. She looked at the clothes and looked back at me and was clearly struggling to put into words what was going through her mind. She came out with the following:

"I can fix this . . .(pause) . . . but it will happen again."

Pointed look at my thighs.

". . .Unless you loose some weight"

Now clearly that didn't sound diplomatic to me and there was a very long pregnant pause, as I fought back a fairly defensive response, interrupted by the sound of the bell going as my Husband left the shop.

I replied as best I could

"If you fix the skirt, I will fix the weight. Thank you very much"

The Endevour Award

When I was 12 years old I started playing squash, every week for 6 years. I played for my club and at my peak I represented the East of Scotland u16's. My sister still plays and was far more committed than I was to it. At the start of university I went to a couple of their training sessions but they weren't quite as welcoming to young, shy new starts as I thought they might be. And besides I had discovered other challenges to growing up and independent living.

I would go and play and coach and compete. Every week for 6 years. I can count on my one hand the number of competition matches I actually won. . . 1. Towards the end of the season our club would hold an awards night to raise money and acknowledge those who had performed particularly well across the club- from veterans to juniors.

This was to be my last awards night before I started uni'.

I won my first and last ever trophy- The Endeavor Award. Mine was the first name on the plaque under the cup. It went with some of these words:

" . . .
She had shown determination and commitment.

Coming week on week without fail. Helping younger members find their feet and competing without always winning*
. . .
"
courtesy of www.weheartit.com

Yes, I got an award for trying.



*or winning at all