The Good Doctor
When I first started jogging I genuinely thought there was something wrong with my heart, so I booked myself in with the doctor.
“So why are you here today to see me?” said this man in the white coat working his locum doctor job, “I am sorry but I can’t prescribe anything for your being over-weight, you need nothing more than simple exercise.”
I looked down, and in that moment all my self-esteem – built up over months of trying not to eat so many fatty things and genuinely thinking it was working – vanished.
“Er I’m not here about my being overweight, thanks doctor,” I replied. “I’m here about my heart, I think there’s something wrong with it. And I do exercise as it happens. That’s partly why I am here.”
He asked me to explain, and half way through he started to laugh behind his fist.
“If there’s something wrong with my heart then I don’t see what’s so amusing!” I said furiously.
He said, “your heart isn’t the problem, it’s your jogging technique.”
We talked about my technique (or rather he talked and I scoffed with annoyance). This ’technique'consisted of me running as fast as I could around the local park, pretty much until my body shut down and I had to lie down for half an hour and recover myself. It transpired that the doctor himself was an avid jogger, the git. Had been for many years. He set me right on a few things. He told me to slow down and pace myself and I’d be fine. He told me to not get put off when it felt as though my body was being stabbed with knives, because that was normal and everyone got it.
After that day I began to finally lose weight and feel like a regular human being just running along. There is something to be said for listening to your doctor, even when it turns out that he is a massive git.
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