I’ve written before about my struggles with fitness and body image. Up until about a year ago, though, I was convinced that I finally had these issues under control. I was eating well and going to the gym was part of my regular routine–it had been for several years. I was happy with the way I felt and looked, proud of the progress I’d made.
But if the last year has taught me anything, it’s that the battle to keep myself on track will never end.
Sidetracked
I don’t know when things started to fall apart. Maybe it was last September, when I realized how busy the school year was going to be. In addition to teaching my usual course load, I’d taken on some additional responsibilities at the university. That meant more demands on my time, and my afternoon workouts were the first thing to be sacrificed. True, I could have gone to the gym at 5 a.m. (nope, not gonna happen) or in the evening, after dinner. But I didn’t.
I was tired. I deserved to decompress with a glass of wine after a stressful day, I told myself. Strangely enough, I never deserved the workout that would keep me healthy.
Promises, Promises
For a while, I tried to convince myself that I’d get back on track eventually. Next week looks a little less busy. Surely time for a workout would reveal itself. But one week rolled into the next, and still my gym clothes sat untouched in the closet. I’d walk the dog a couple times a week, taking my turn in the family rotation–but other than that, I wasn’t getting any exercise.
Then December rolled around, with Christmas break spread out before me. I pledged to rebuild a healthier way of living– new year, new routine. I would not let work responsibilities get in the way of self-care when the spring semester began. It was time for a change. Christmas break would give me a running start.
But I think I visited the gym exactly twice between the fall and spring semesters. I’d forgotten what I used to know about exercise: the more you do it, the more you want to. And, by the same token–the less you do it, the less appealing it sounds.
Springing Ahead–or, not
I made a half-hearted attempt to take walks more often in early March, just before Mike and I made a trip to England and Scotland for Spring Break. I knew we’d be walking a lot with the group of students we were helping to chaperon, and I didn’t want to be the old lady who was holding back everyone else.
And I did manage to get through that week of travel without incident. I think I even lost a few pounds, if the looser fit of my jeans was any indication. I pledged to head back to the gym when I got home–or, at the very least, walk more often–rather than lose whatever progress I’d made.
Then, suddenly, it was May. I hadn’t gone back to the gym–or taken a long walk–even once.
Is that who you want to be?
After grades had been turned in and the academic year officially wrapped up, the only thing standing between me and the gym was my own lethargy. For several days, I made excuses.
It’s the first day of summer break–I deserve a little relaxation.
There’s a lot of stuff I need to be doing in the yard before I go to the gym. Yard work counts as exercise too.
Maybe I’m just not a gym person.
When I started to ponder canceling my gym membership, I remembered what terrible shape I was in when I first began braving the treadmill. I could barely walk at 3 miles per hour, and a mile on the treadmill made me feel like I was near death. I was headed right back to becoming that person if I didn’t change direction.
So there was only one question I needed to ask myself: Is that who you want to be?
The answer, I’m happy to report, was no.
She got up off the couch
So I put on my workout clothes, and I went to the gym.
That first day, my only goal was Go to the gym. The minute I walked through the door, I’d accomplished something. I let myself take it easy, knowing that sore muscles (or, worse, an overuse injury) were only going to make it less likely that I’d return.
My second goal was Go to the gym again this week. So I returned a few days later. And again, I’d achieved my goal the minute I walked through the door.
It was easier to stay for a while this time; I’d discovered the Alternative Endurance Training channel on Pandora Radio, so I was distracted by good music while I put in some time on the treadmill. I lifted some weights. An hour had passed by the time I left, and I wasn’t feeling disgruntled about the way I’d spent it.
Do better
When I went back a third time, my goal was Do better. So I hopped on the elliptical instead of the treadmill. Then I spent some time on a recumbent bike. Between the two, I put in almost an hour of cardio before I moved on to lift some weights. I wasn’t working all that hard, but I was there a little longer, working a little harder.
I’ve discovered that Do better is a multi-purpose goal that can take on many shapes. It can mean more days at the gym each week, more miles in an hour, extra reps, more weight.
And I know, inevitably, there will be days when Do better simply means going to the gym when I don’t feel like it. But that in itself is, of course, better than the alternative.
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