Thursday, January 30, 2014

How the Wheels Fell Off the Exercise Wagon

Before I captivate you with the story on how I sabotaged my own exercise plan, I am asking a favor.  I have joined a writing community called Yeah Write.  My posts will be judged by perfect strangers and I am a bit nervous to pull the trigger on it.  Can you please tell me what you think about this post and how I can make it better?  I would rather hear it from people that know me and kind of like me than from an editor that doesn't understand my fragile ego. 

Now, without further ado, I bring you "How the Wheels Fell Off the Exercise Wagon."


For 20 weeks last year, through the hottest of hot and the coldest of cold that Northeastern Ohio has to offer, I schlepped across campus for my exercise class.  I put my sedentary body through previously unimaginable exercises and became a lean, mean exercising machine.  I liked it so much that I actually recruited new members for our class.  Granted, at the beginning it was so I would not be the only person who couldn’t do a proper push-up, but by the end of the winter semester I was loving how I looked and felt.   

I was sure that a little thing like a five week break in the class and the Christmas/New Year’s holiday would not break my stride.  Oliver had taught me all I needed to know to carry on by myself.  In the past five weeks I only proved to myself that I cannot be trusted to my own devices.  My warm bed, comfy couch and a hectic holiday season were my downfall.  Who was I trying to kid?  My Kindle full of books and DVR full of shows was a much bigger draw than planks and weights. 

I started this program because I knew that I needed to take care of myself.  Now that I am working in an office instead of from home, I sit at my desk all day, with the only activity being to walk to the restroom.  Most days I didn’t even leave for lunch.  Something had to be done.  When the university offered a class designed specifically for couch potatoes, I jumped at the chance. 

It started in the summer.  The hot, hot summer.  I was in the worst shape of my life and was embarrassed that I would be the most pathetic participant.  I quickly found out that not only was I not pathetic, but I was firmly in the upper middle of the pack.  I gained a little confidence and a few muscles and made a few friends.  I started to look forward to exercising.  For the first time since I had kids I was taking care of me.  

We went all summer and into the fall without stopping.  That was the key, we didn’t stop.  Fall turned to winter and what I now refer to as THE BREAK.  Nobody was watching for me or e-mailing me when I didn’t go.  Nobody cared how many movements I had on my MOVBAND.  There were no rewards for fighting the good fight.  There were holiday cookies to eat, smut romance novels to read and 27 back episodes of NCIS on my DVR.  I had kids to entertain and laundry to fold.  There was no such thing as lunch time, let alone “me” time. 

Monday starts the new class and I will be back on the straight and narrow.  I am looking forward to seeing my old workout friends and making some new ones.  I can’t wait to tell the new people that it is going to be okay and they are doing a great thing that is going to change the quality of their lives.  I am excited to lose the sluggish cloud that has followed me for the last five weeks.   In 12 weeks I will once again be a lean, mean exercising machine.  Until then, you can find me on my couch reading “Orange is the New Black” on my kindle and binge watching it on Netflix before they release season two!

1 comment:

Emily Cureton Booth said...

I think a break is fine every one in awhile. If you didn't take one you might get burned out and NEVER start back up again. You've got to have a sustainable long term plan and if that involves breaks you can look forward to, so be it! I say enjoy the time off and know that you earned it. You'll be back to doing push ups in no time.