The Last Great Work Out

I should take a minute to talk about my exercise plan.  So far it mostly involves me getting up early or staying up late and working on writing.  I have been fairly dedicated and my fingers are getting sleek, toned and awesome.  I don’t want to brag, but I totally have Michelle Obama fingers. 

Needless to say I may have been neglecting the exercise part of the 300 and Change project. 

 

In my previous posts I talked about how fitness is intimidating to me.  I spoke about how I feel that exercise always seems to come at the sake of my pride.  But at the end of that post I was determined to do “more research” and some “squats” or something.

So let me describe to you the events of my last work out.

It was cool and blustery day.  There was a little sun, and the wind was kicking up because a rain storm was coming.  In this eerie and epic setting, I strapped on my sneakers and headed out for my first “interval workout.”  As I weaved in and out of the short streets in my neighborhood, I alternated running and sprinting, lunges and squats.  (Well I only did squats when cars weren’t going by)

 I went out from our neighborhood past our small pond to the park across the street. This park has several climbing apparatuses. So I started climbing them.  Nothing like climbing multiple colorful structures to keep my muscles confused, right?  I didn’t let myself get comfortable with any one activity, I kept changing it up. I climbed over some playground mushrooms.  Then I planted my hands on one of the playground bars to do some standing pushups.  I hoisted myself over some spider web looking apparatus.  Then I dropped and did some crunches.  The trees surrounding the park were swaying in the wind.  I could see shots of this workout in the music montage in my movie, you know 300 and Change: The Beginning. 

 

And the scenes just kept coming.  I walked from the park to this huge tree just a few yards away.  The branches are very long and hang all the way to the ground, creating a splendid dome of foliage, the perfect setting for a few yoga stretches.  I mean give me camera boom and we had the makings of a music video.  

I started heading home. The wind had churned the water in our little pond and the grey clouds were rolling in. My hair whipped around my face.  As I was finishing my final sprint near the pond I startled a small group of white cranes and they took off in flight just as I passed them.  Birds.  I kid you not, magnificent birds soared at the sight of me.

When I got back to my house, I remembered I needed to call my mom.  As I dialed the phone a thought occurred to me.  “I’m going to pass out.” 

The room started to spin a little and I was shaky on my feet.   So I had a decision to make.  Does this part make it into the movie?  The part where I am on the phone with my mother with my head between my knees?  

I could hardly walk in the days that followed.  I made horrible noises when getting in and out of chairs, and each step of the stairs in my house was Everest. 

 The truth is I was never even that confident while I was doing the work out.  I was just throwing everything I had at it, trying to make it “good enough.”  It was crazy hard but as I was hanging of the different apparatuses (apparati?) I comforted myself that someday it would get easier. At some point I would be able to maneuver the climbing park with ease, leaping from spider web to the mushrooms like a mountain goat.  But another thought haunted me, once I do tackle this place with ease, I will have to then up my routine. Isn’t the goal to always be out of breath?  Isn’t that what they say, that once it gets easy that is when you have to work harder?  

This sounded awful to me.  This kind of exercise philosophy didn't sound like any fun.  I felt like I could never feel satisfied in a workout.  

For all the amazing camera shots this workout would give me, I didn’t want to do it again. And the thought that once I mastered it I would only have to make it harder, well that made me feel like I was chasing the horizon or fighting a windmill or some other metaphor. (Please don’t let my word smithing intimidate you.) 

The second problem compounding the exercise issue is that I took on two other activities that take a lot of time.  First, I started a new diet plan that I like a great deal.  The short version is that I don’t eat grain and I do eat fat. (More on that another day) But this kind of eating plan requires planning and more often than not, cooking. There aren’t a lot of easy meals.  And if I don’t cook I don’t eat and if I don’t eat, well, there is another moment with me, my head between my knees on the phone to my mother.  

And on top of the new eating plan I have “started” a blog, in case you haven’t noticed.  And the writing takes time.  Time I love.  Time I enjoy.  It’s hard and it is gut wrenching and going through edit after edit makes me crazy and makes me feel like I have no business putting words together.  But I am writing on a consistent basis and that’s something I have always wanted.

I guess I am just wrestling with the idea that time is finite.  I never seem to quite get this concept. This delusion, that I could take on all of these major projects at once and have them not conflict, is typical me.  I never properly estimate time.  I think I can drastically change the way I eat but not need to prepare for that change.  I think I can put out a decent piece of writing once a week but don’t need to schedule time to write.  

It is the “I will get to it later” feeling that I always believe.  This feeling is why piles of clothing go unfolded.  Why bathroom counters don’t get wiped down in a timely manner.

It is why I thought I could write a book but only dabble with it when I have time.  As if a book would materialize even though I kept the writing an afterthought. It was the mentality that kept me the kind of person that was “watching” my weight and not doing something about my weight.  It is the part of me that set goals to change my life, but is now surprised that these goals require so much of my day to day life to actually change.  

I guess I come to the idea of exercise with the same amount of fear and anxiety that I have when I come to the other areas of my life.  I don’t want to be made a fool and I don’t want to waste my time.   And I feel like if I try and fail, then the trying was worth nothing.  

The one “change” in my life I was able to attempt with the most success was the change in my eating plan.  That change I made slowly and in small ways.  With my diet I started with sugar, so with exercise maybe I should start with yoga. Or maybe I should commit to doing one activity in a week.  

I just need to start somewhere.   

So I got a few workout DVD’s from the library.  I picked up a yoga video and a “So You Think You Can Dance” workout and something about Brazilian dancing.  

With a line up like that I guess, it’s time to toss the pride out the window.   It was weighing me down anyway.