New Year energy has arrived, and while some people are manifesting calm mornings and green smoothies, I’ve somehow signed myself up for three weeks of Pilates Strong and committed to keeping my 30‑minute run alive. I don’t know what I’ve agreed to, I’m definitely sweating through it, and the hill at the end still isn’t optional — but if you want to see what stubbornness, sea views, and sister‑approved struggle look like, this year’s first Elephant Run Spot update is for you.
Happy New Year
We’ve survived the festive season, the leftovers, the weather mood swings, and the annual ritual of pretending we’re going to reinvent ourselves on January 1st. Some people start the year with vision boards. Some start with green smoothies. Some start by promising to “slow down and be more mindful,” which lasts until approximately January 3rd.
And then there’s me.
The Pilates Strong Mystery
For reasons still completely unknown to me — possibly a momentary lapse in judgement, possibly a clerical error — I signed up for three weeks of Pilates Strong.
Now, let me be clear:
I know absolutely nothing about Pilates Strong.
Nothing.
All I’ve gathered so far is that it appears to be my normal Reformer Pilates… plus a bike and a rowing machine of some description.
Which feels less like Pilates and more like someone quietly slipping cardio into my safe space.
So yes — expect a challenge.
Expect sweat.
Expect me to question my life choices at least twice per session.
The Running Reality
Here’s the twist:
If I’m doing 4–5 Pilates Strong sessions a week, I still need to maintain my 30‑minute run.
Because if I don’t, I’ll have to start again.
And I refuse.
I absolutely refuse.
Starting again is for people who enjoy character development arcs.
I’m here for continuity, not a reboot.
Let’s be honest:
I don’t enjoy running.
What I enjoy is being someone who can run for 30 minutes.
That’s different.
That’s identity maintenance.
That’s future‑proofing.
Why the Sunday Run Stays
Not because I’m motivated.
Not because I’m disciplined.
But because I’m building on what I’ve already worked for.
And because if I want to get home, I have to walk up that hill at the end — and the hill is non‑negotiable.
It’s not a fitness choice.
It’s geography, and it must be conquered every single time.
The Walk Back (and the Knight in Shining Armour)
The walk back is simply a chance to regather my composure, enjoy the scenery, breathe in the sea air, and casually scan the horizon for my knight in shining armour.
Although, let’s be honest — at a certain age, a knight in Speedos and baby oil is less “romantic rescue” and more “call the lifeguards, something’s gone wrong.”
The Real Joy
The real joy isn’t the run anyway.
It’s the sea views, the photo I send to my sister, and the shared laugh when she sees the sweat glistening on my red face — proof of the struggle, proof of the effort, proof that I showed up.
The Year Ahead
So yes — New Year, new challenges.
But also: New Year, same hill.
Same sea.
Same commitment to keeping the door open.
You are the star of your own story — so make this year shine.
