On moving forward
Today I walked 3KM. Or something close to that I'm told. For those of you run marathons and exercise regularly this isn't going to sound like a big deal. But it was through a forest, with some wicked hills. And it's about 2.5KM farther than I've walked in one stretch in likely a year (unless Christmas shopping at Metrotown counts).
The forest was beautiful and cool, and the trees shielded us from potential rain. 10 minutes in I couldn't breathe. I started seeing pretty lights and my fingers started to tingle because they were numb. Perhaps starting an exercise program with a lung infection was not a good idea. Before you yell at me, please understand, I am the queen of excuses if I blew this off, it would be one more time I failed. So I went, I went last week, and I went this week. I went. I showed up. I showed freakin' up. And it was good.
But to back up... my friend is to blame/thank -- she recently invited me to a beginner fitness class she's teaching. She assured me that there were people at various levels and interests, but all were getting started making fitness part of their world.
Let me be clear. I hate fitness classes. Hate them.
Here are some of the reasons:
1. Deb is safe.
She's been my friend for over a decade, and she's never led me astray. Through some pretty crazy things, her love for me has been a constant. We meet for coffee (not nearly often enough), and she's one of those people I can use my inside voice with and not even say "whoops that was my inside voice...you didn't hear that".
2. I haven't moved my body in a fast or meaningful way for too many years to count.
When I get overwhelmed, whether it's cleaning my house or exercising or organizing paperwork, or even work work... I shut down. I don't know where to start so I spin. This is not healthy. Given I'm breaking myself of this in other areas of my life, I figured I should maybe give a crap about the vessel that makes all the other stuff happen.
3. My stress is at an all time high.
I've started a business, I want to sell my house, my finances are a hot mess and I'm facing the fact that my wonderful babies are soon going to fly the coop. I'm tired most of the time -- I work until 2am most days and my anxiety, once held nicely at bay (for over a decade) spends most of my days sitting on my shoulder waiting to club me when I least expect it. I either start drinking more or I move my body. Drinking somehow doesn't seem to have the end game in mind.
But these women....these beautiful wonderful women... I can't even tell you.
I show up with my lung infection and what might also be exercise induced asthma, and I feel like crap for slowing them all down, but here's the thing, they don't slow down. They take off and Deb is fast...like racehorse fast. She is the fast to which we compare all other fast. But when they achieve victory and catch her you know what they do? They turn around and walk BACK until they are behind me, and the next person behind that person and so on... so I'm not last (for a while anyway). As they reach me they ask if I'm ok and tell me how awesome I'm doing. I'm convinced they must be blind, because I'm quite sure my lips are blue and I'm breathing like I'm about to give birth to kittens. But they don't ask me in a patronizing/"could you be more pathetic?!" way...they ask in a warm, "you're part of us, you're not getting left behind" kind of way.
Deb was right -- they are all in different places. Some have injuries they are nursing. Others are pushing themselves harder than they have in a long time. Others look fabulous in running gear (*cough* which I do not *cough*) but I have to love them because they show up and laugh and encourage and exude joy.
And they are showing up. And I am showing up. And my showing up may be the least pretty show up of all time, but no matter how bad my butt looks in those pants, it looks better off the couch.
And my life is still stressful, and I need to go to a doctor to sort out the asthma thing and my bills weren't magically paid, but today I felt GREAT (once i could breathe again).
But to back up... my friend is to blame/thank -- she recently invited me to a beginner fitness class she's teaching. She assured me that there were people at various levels and interests, but all were getting started making fitness part of their world.
Let me be clear. I hate fitness classes. Hate them.
Here are some of the reasons:
- Everyone is more coordinated than me.
- Everyone is faster than me.
- They make you put your body in positions that bodies were not intended to go in (outside of the bedroom anyway).
- I look terrible in anything remotely appropriate for sweating in.
- Why would I pay to do something I could do for free.
- THERE ARE PEOPLE THERE.
1. Deb is safe.
She's been my friend for over a decade, and she's never led me astray. Through some pretty crazy things, her love for me has been a constant. We meet for coffee (not nearly often enough), and she's one of those people I can use my inside voice with and not even say "whoops that was my inside voice...you didn't hear that".
2. I haven't moved my body in a fast or meaningful way for too many years to count.
When I get overwhelmed, whether it's cleaning my house or exercising or organizing paperwork, or even work work... I shut down. I don't know where to start so I spin. This is not healthy. Given I'm breaking myself of this in other areas of my life, I figured I should maybe give a crap about the vessel that makes all the other stuff happen.
3. My stress is at an all time high.
I've started a business, I want to sell my house, my finances are a hot mess and I'm facing the fact that my wonderful babies are soon going to fly the coop. I'm tired most of the time -- I work until 2am most days and my anxiety, once held nicely at bay (for over a decade) spends most of my days sitting on my shoulder waiting to club me when I least expect it. I either start drinking more or I move my body. Drinking somehow doesn't seem to have the end game in mind.
But these women....these beautiful wonderful women... I can't even tell you.
I show up with my lung infection and what might also be exercise induced asthma, and I feel like crap for slowing them all down, but here's the thing, they don't slow down. They take off and Deb is fast...like racehorse fast. She is the fast to which we compare all other fast. But when they achieve victory and catch her you know what they do? They turn around and walk BACK until they are behind me, and the next person behind that person and so on... so I'm not last (for a while anyway). As they reach me they ask if I'm ok and tell me how awesome I'm doing. I'm convinced they must be blind, because I'm quite sure my lips are blue and I'm breathing like I'm about to give birth to kittens. But they don't ask me in a patronizing/"could you be more pathetic?!" way...they ask in a warm, "you're part of us, you're not getting left behind" kind of way.
Deb was right -- they are all in different places. Some have injuries they are nursing. Others are pushing themselves harder than they have in a long time. Others look fabulous in running gear (*cough* which I do not *cough*) but I have to love them because they show up and laugh and encourage and exude joy.
And they are showing up. And I am showing up. And my showing up may be the least pretty show up of all time, but no matter how bad my butt looks in those pants, it looks better off the couch.
And my life is still stressful, and I need to go to a doctor to sort out the asthma thing and my bills weren't magically paid, but today I felt GREAT (once i could breathe again).
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