
Well, not so much light bulb. It was far more gradual than that in reality. After several years of consciously trying to learn about myself, making changes, tweaking them, scrapping them and starting again, I finally feel like I’m on track. And the biggest lesson I’ve learnt is that my health is not a destination. My health, your health, is a journey. And everybody’s journey is different.
The light bulb came when I realised that what I’ve learnt could help other people to achieve the balance they’re seeking, too.

So what does it take to feel good and function well? The answer is simple. Balance.
Achieving this balance is possible for everyone by making small, consistent changes. I can pinpoint the moment I made the first good decision to help myself. I decided, on the spur of the moment, to join a local running group. A Couch to 5k lead by a local PE teacher for his wife and a few of her friends. One of them put the meeting point on a public Facebook page and the poor chap ended up with about 30 of us on the first cold January evening. To his credit, he coached us up to running for 30 minutes non-stop and stuck with us, every Monday evening, for a whole year. By this point I was hooked.
At the time, I was a mum of two preschool boys. I’d recently moved to a new area. My husband had a job that meant he worked late evenings and weekends. I worked on the bank at a local hospital, I enjoyed my job, but really it was just something I could do and it fitted around the rest of life, it didn’t challenge me. I was making poor dietary choices. Other than a walk to the park with buggies and scooters and the dog, I wasn’t exercising. I stayed up too late in the evenings and struggled to wake up the next morning. I had mid afternoon energy slumps and craved sugar. My skin was awful, I was overweight, I was unhappy. I can’t even add a photo of me then, I made sure none existed.

Running gave me so much more than I expected. I knew I needed to get fit and had run a bit as a teenager so it wasn’t too far from my comfort zones. Although it was a shock to realise how unfit I’d become. Getting physically fitter was something I expected.
What I didn’t realise was that this new physical fitness would spur me on to make better dietary choices, sleep better, have more energy, make friends, boost my confidence, create learning opportunities and a chance for me to give back and pass on these benefits to other people who are currently where I was.
Fast forward 5 years. I’m a Mum of two primary (almost secondary) age boys. They’re active, healthy kids who eat healthily and are physically and mentally fit. This is because I realised how important it was to set them a good example. I now work in a job I love with the hours that fit perfectly around my family. My husband’s work-life balance is vastly improved. We eat good, homemade food most of the time (we’re human, sweet things are far from banned, but are now in moderation). I exercise in various forms almost every day. I set goals and plans to be able to meet them and recognise the small achievements of every day and the big achievements borne out of these smaller ones. I have a supportive and fabulous friendship group. They really are incredible and we inspire each other. I learn; self improvement, work courses, I gained a run leader qualification. I give my time voluntarily to our local triathlon club as a run leader and secretary. I helped set up the junior section of the club and the beginner group. I barely recognise the me of five years ago to the person I am today.
None of this happens at the touch of a button though. And actually, would I feel as good if it did? Probably not. Part of what makes this feel like such a huge achievement is that it was a gradual process. Small habits created, some old ones now null and void. Tweaks here and there, mistakes recognised and reevaluated. Nothing huge, nothing momentous. Just a recognition that I needed to change and the willingness to give something a go. My start was running. Yours could be sleep, sugar, catching up with a friend. But do start, you really can’t imagine how far it could take you.



