Two weeks into a 8 week challenge, 8 weeks out from the Newham Great Run and 10 weeks from Summer Slam and I am progressing slowly. I have lost 1.7 kgs in the first two weeks of the challenge and a few cms. If I continue at the same pace I am on target to lose a stone in 8 weeks.

I was very happy with this as I had struggled a little with the eating programme and I am very competent at beating myself up when I don’t find things as easy as I think they should be.

I have concluded that I am a little bit competitive. Nothing wrong with that I hear you say but sometimes it gets in the way of my progress. I frequently compare myself to other women I train with which can lead to negativity. Before being instructed to stop exercising last year I was training at the same intensity and lifting the same weights (if not more) as women half my age. During my time away it feels as if I have been overtaken. They have gained whilst I have lost and I now have some catching up to do. At the same time I tell myself that, whilst I can become super fit for a 57-year-old, a fit 30 something will always leave me standing. That’s life.

So I need to train for myself and to stop comparing myself to others. I need to compete against myself. But that can often feel difficult and I occasionally need to remind myself of how far I have come.

I had one amazing moment last weekend. I was staying at Centre Parcs with friends. We started our annual trip to Centre Parcs a few years ago after being told off for making too much noise whilst on a spa weekend at a Champneys Health Resort.

During our visit last year I found myself having to stop half way up a 10% hill to catch my breath. I was walking. One of those moments when I questioned why I was struggling when I was so fit. I think I blamed the alcohol consumption the previous night. Always a good excuse. This year I was going to run up it without stopping.  The sun was shining, I had Gonna Fly Now blaring through my ear phones (can’t beat it) and I had just overtook another woman runner. There’s that competitive streak again. I went for it. And I done it.  When I got to the top I looked up at the clear, blue sky and said out loud ‘thank god’. Not that I am religious. It should really have been my consultant’s name. It was a little emotional and once again I felt extremely grateful.

The day after I returned from Centre Parcs it was my 8 month post op consultant appointment. My last visit to Bart’s hospital was when I was 2 months post op. Back then I was experiencing pain in my sternum but otherwise I felt fine. But I still took my husband with me in case I was given bad news. Of course everything was fine and I ended up buying him a £300 jacket. I didn’t take him this time!

I went 100% confident that all was well. An ECG and a few observations later and the consultant confirmed my diagnosis. Next appointment in one year.

My main motivation for writing this blog all those months ago was to record my (I am going to say it even though I hate the phrase) ‘journey’ to becoming a Personal Trainer. I qualified as a Gym Instructor  a year and a half ago and I completed half of my Diploma in Personal Training last year before I had to take time out. Since my return I have had to look for another provider as the one I was originally with started mucking me about. I got my money back and am now signed up with a new one. Course work has been received and the first assessment weekend is in two weeks.

I am on track to qualify in July. Just before the 1st anniversary of the diagnosis that shook my world. I have come a long way.