Uphill Both Ways
My husband actually has the day off today, which has been rare of late, so I wasn't confined to the bedroom for my morning cardio. Somehow dancing in the living room has an odd feel to it so I decided to get on the stationary bike. It has been months since I've been on it and I was dreading it before I got on. I knew that 3 minutes into it my leg muscles would start burning, and they did. I knew that I would be clock-watching and wanting to quit before 30 minutes and those things happened too. But around 10 minutes in, before the endorphins kicked in, I stopped looking at the clock and looked down and my lower abs spilling over my legs. My stomach moved with every rotation of the pedals and I thought about how all that stuff weighs me down and how even though this work challenge is for points and recognition, the real connection I need to make is that I need to be doing this for me, for my health and not for recognition or "attagirl" points at work. As much as I was needing to push myself to get through that workout, even when I was down to the last 2 minutes and had to tell myself I am finishing this last two minutes on this bike, I knew that all that pushing through something I didn't want to do at all is exactly what I need to be doing if I want my body to continue to support me.
After 30 grueling minutes on the bike I got off and walked around to cool down for a few minutes. My legs felt like rubber and it threw my balance off a little bit and I thought about how embarassed I would feel if I had fallen over and hurt myself just because I actually exerted myself. I wasn't dizzy I just felt like all the blood was in my legs and it took a solid minute of walking to get them to feel normal. After my cool-down I got the dog outside and was happy to just do the normal task of walking around with the dog a bit. I thought again about how I really prefer things that don't push me outside of my comfort zone where cardio is involved. Dancing makes me sweaty but I don't really move all over, and while I do hugely engage my legs muscles, hips, and abs, it doesn't torture me the way the bike felt like torture. I think it's the constant tension on the quad muscles that makes me uncomfortable with the bike. Obviously I need them to be worked, not just because I am lacking stamina in them, but because they support the knee and protect it from injury. I like yoga because it challenges me at a slower pace. I don't like that bike but I can tell that it is beneficial in ways that the other activities aren't. So that is a mental hurdle that I will need to conquer for this challenge because there are only so many activities I have available to me at 4:15am in my apartment.
My husband and I had an interesting conversation recently about how people define themselves. It started from an Autism page I follow and a conversation around diagnosed vs self-diagnosed and people either seeking a lable or hating the idea of it. It made me think about how people identify themselves by choice. I guess if someone asked me to write a description of myself I would likely say Optician, mom and wife. But that doesn't encapsulate me so why would I chose to use that as my description of myself. Then I thought about what is my passion? What am I about other than ruminating about my excess weight and how I think I should fix it? I know logically that fixing my weight won't fix any of my other problems, but my brain habitually goes back to assuming it will. I believe (by rote) that fixing my weight will mean I am determined and strong and disciplined and that also means not losing weight makes me feel the opposite of all those things. That's not fair to do to myself. This is why Geneen Roth's writing will always be necessary in my journey, it's a reminder of the inner battle that needs to be met with curiosity and kindness, not for the sake of losing weight (though I do believe that can be a positive side effect) but for the sake of finding true and consistent contentment in life. Maybe it's a little sad or scary to think of detatching food from emotions because it's been connected like conjoined twins for me since I can remember. Food has been the goofy ageeable 'friend' I bring along everywhere I go, sharing all my emotions with it to heighten, hide or numb what is beneath the surface. It's like the car I emotionally attached to while I was going through depression in my 20's, I would sit alone in my car at a park and cry and cry (seemingly about nothing) and then I would eat something horrible for my health, dry my tears and move on. I got attached to that car as the object that housed my experience, my safe place where I could be alone and emote, write, daydream or even just watch the gulls gliding over the water. The car had nothing to do with it, really, just like the food has nothing to do with it, all that messy stuff is inside me waiting for me to acknowledge it and free it.
I'm hoping this inter refelction will become increasingly more frequent so I can start to do just that.
After 30 grueling minutes on the bike I got off and walked around to cool down for a few minutes. My legs felt like rubber and it threw my balance off a little bit and I thought about how embarassed I would feel if I had fallen over and hurt myself just because I actually exerted myself. I wasn't dizzy I just felt like all the blood was in my legs and it took a solid minute of walking to get them to feel normal. After my cool-down I got the dog outside and was happy to just do the normal task of walking around with the dog a bit. I thought again about how I really prefer things that don't push me outside of my comfort zone where cardio is involved. Dancing makes me sweaty but I don't really move all over, and while I do hugely engage my legs muscles, hips, and abs, it doesn't torture me the way the bike felt like torture. I think it's the constant tension on the quad muscles that makes me uncomfortable with the bike. Obviously I need them to be worked, not just because I am lacking stamina in them, but because they support the knee and protect it from injury. I like yoga because it challenges me at a slower pace. I don't like that bike but I can tell that it is beneficial in ways that the other activities aren't. So that is a mental hurdle that I will need to conquer for this challenge because there are only so many activities I have available to me at 4:15am in my apartment.
My husband and I had an interesting conversation recently about how people define themselves. It started from an Autism page I follow and a conversation around diagnosed vs self-diagnosed and people either seeking a lable or hating the idea of it. It made me think about how people identify themselves by choice. I guess if someone asked me to write a description of myself I would likely say Optician, mom and wife. But that doesn't encapsulate me so why would I chose to use that as my description of myself. Then I thought about what is my passion? What am I about other than ruminating about my excess weight and how I think I should fix it? I know logically that fixing my weight won't fix any of my other problems, but my brain habitually goes back to assuming it will. I believe (by rote) that fixing my weight will mean I am determined and strong and disciplined and that also means not losing weight makes me feel the opposite of all those things. That's not fair to do to myself. This is why Geneen Roth's writing will always be necessary in my journey, it's a reminder of the inner battle that needs to be met with curiosity and kindness, not for the sake of losing weight (though I do believe that can be a positive side effect) but for the sake of finding true and consistent contentment in life. Maybe it's a little sad or scary to think of detatching food from emotions because it's been connected like conjoined twins for me since I can remember. Food has been the goofy ageeable 'friend' I bring along everywhere I go, sharing all my emotions with it to heighten, hide or numb what is beneath the surface. It's like the car I emotionally attached to while I was going through depression in my 20's, I would sit alone in my car at a park and cry and cry (seemingly about nothing) and then I would eat something horrible for my health, dry my tears and move on. I got attached to that car as the object that housed my experience, my safe place where I could be alone and emote, write, daydream or even just watch the gulls gliding over the water. The car had nothing to do with it, really, just like the food has nothing to do with it, all that messy stuff is inside me waiting for me to acknowledge it and free it.
I'm hoping this inter refelction will become increasingly more frequent so I can start to do just that.
Comments
Post a Comment