You are probably questioning why you’ve started reading this rather strangely titled blog post about my bottom. You’re also probably questioning why my bottom deserves a blog all to itself. Well, let me explain…

When I started running, I was convinced that I wasn’t a ‘real runner’. I was not tall with long legs, an athletic physique and abs you could grate cheese on. I was short with dodgy knees and about as much elegance as a drunk Nan at a wedding. In my mind, this was not what a runner makes.

Photo owned by Threewaters Photography Team Rees Gym

So, here’s why I thought I wasn’t a runner:

  • I’m curvy (with an obvious derriere)
  • I’m short (mostly made up of fore-mentioned derriere)
  • I don’t run very fast (hindered by my larger than life bottom)
  • I don’t look elegant when I run (my booty does not allow me this privilege)
  • I don’t always have the motivation to run (can’t blame my bottom for that one)
  • I always get injured (I CAN blame my bottom for that)
  • I look like I’ve birthed a whale when I stop running (I get very red faced – it’s tough carrying a bottom around)

I have to admit that I’m one of life’s triers. According to my knowledgeable physio sister and my actual physio I shouldn’t be able to run because mechanically, I don’t work properly. I have historically suffered with my ‘glutes not firing’, which is a polite way of saying I have a ‘lazy bottom’. Despite my best intentions, my bottom wishes not to run with me. It’s like dragging a child along behind you when you want to go somewhere and they don’t.

The physio did say my inability to hop would stop me from running. I nodded in agreement but then dropped the fact I did a marathon a few years ago. He just looked at me in horror and said ‘That must’ve been mind over matter for sure’!

I have been given exercises to help wake it up and make it stronger but it doesn’t respond well to threats. I’ve tried to ease it in gently with specific gym classes (Legs, BUMS and Tums) but it got wise to it. I’ve tried shimmying it in dance classes, but it’s too middle class. All in all, my bottom is stubborn, like me.

Despite my lazy bottom holding me back, I realised that actually I am a runner. I’m nothing like what I had/have in my mind but that’s OK. So on a more positive note, here’s why I decided I CAN run:

  • Because I am capable
  • Because you don’t have to be an athlete or a supermodel to do it
  • Because my mind is powerful and helps my body along
  • Because I ran the friggin’ London Marathon!

It took me and my bottom a while to realise that although we didn’t ‘look like a runner’, it doesn’t mean we’re not one. And the same is true for anyone else who’s holding back from giving it a go.

I’m very proud of how far (in miles and life) my bottom has brought me, despite its protestations. My bottom remains a problem but it’s a loveable, squidgy problem to have. If we can get out and do, so can you. So get your beautiful bottoms in active gear and give it a go.

(And after asking Karlos for his opinion about this blog post, he is now playing songs with reference to bottoms, for example, ‘You Can Do It But Your Back Into It’ and ‘Apple Bottom Jeans’s!)