It’s really starting to get to me, this not having a good way to exercise. I almost forgot how exercise saved me from the periodic depression and general “funk” that I have fought with my whole life. But it’s creeping back now.
So much of who I’ve become over the past few years was based on my commitment to my newfound fitness hobby. The earlybird who loved getting up before the sun is now sleeping later and later in the mornings with no real impetus to get up now that there is no race to train for and no need to beat the heat of the day. I find myself not even wanting to get showered and fixed up and slogging around the house in yoga pants and a ponytail every day. The pounds keep creeping up on the scale and everything I put on is tight and uncomfortable. I’m in a total blue funk right now.
I went for a bike ride earlier this week, hoping to shake off some of the funk, but I didn’t want to go too far because I’m worried about the traffic and worried about getting stuck on a hill, so I just meandered in an out of the neighborhoods around us — which was fine, I guess. It just seems kinda lame. I keep saying I’m going to arrange to meet a friend at a trail in our area where I can just ride without worrying about the route or the traffic, but I can never seem to carve out the time. I just want something easy and fast and close to home, bing-bang-done. That’s why running was so easy for me.
I don’t want to go back to being that person I was for the first 25 years of my life, always finding a reason not to be active, fighting the blue funk, struggling to find a reason to put myself together and get out of the house, snapping at my family when my hormones started acting up. I need to do something about it now, before I’m too far gone.
As I was puttering around on my bike a few days ago, I had some time to think — another thing I didn’t realize I missed about my regular exercise habit. Words started forming, blog posts I might put together that are more personal and thoughtful than the latest sale at the Gap.
You know, the time to think and just be is highly underrated. We’re all so busy, going, going, going… We all need time to marinate in our thoughts.
So I was looking around at the pastoral landscape, enjoying the sunshine and the light breeze, it occurred to me that the ability to run is not some unalienable right. Many people have been sidelined from their favorite sport or activity for far worse situations than mine. I need to embrace the things that I CAN do and be grateful that I still CAN do so many things.
If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with… or something like that.
I need to put my big girl pants on and do what I need to do to make it happen. Quit making excuses. Get on your bikes and ride… LOL. I love my music references. Sigh… another thing I miss — those hours with my tunes. See what I do to myself? I really do find any reason to bemoan my current state of affairs.
A friend called yesterday and asked about how my foot is doing. She’s always keeping tabs on me, which is dear because she has some physical health issues that are much more debilitating than mine. She is also struggling to find ways to get her exercise that her body will allow her to do, and she mentioned another friend who is in the same boat for yet a different reason. We commiserated about how frustrating it is to get old and to have to admit that our bodies just can’t do what they once could. It’s just part of the aging process, I guess. Everyone always told me your body falls apart after 40, and they weren’t kidding.
But I can always think of someone who has it worse, and I know I need to quit making excuses and commit to making the most of the situation I’m in. I just wish I could find something active that I love enough to wanna haul myself out of bed every morning for it.
It’s funny, I can sit around the house all day, slogging along and allowing the funk to seep in. But the second I get myself outside doing something active, I start to feel more optimistic. It’s not so hard to be grateful when I’m out there. It’s getting myself there and making it a habit that’s the challenge. I suppose it all comes back to self discipline. What doesn’t, ya know?