Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Accepting that my buns will never be steel
I bought a gym membership because my doctor thought it would be a good idea for me to start swimming. I have a horrible back. It has gotten to the level of constant pain (on a side note, I think this could be helped with yoga, but I'm so busy, so so busy that I usually only get in about 30 minutes of yoga a day). I walked into the gym and instantly felt bad about myself.
For the next few weeks I worked out every day. Sometimes twice a day. I just knew that if I worked out hard enough in no time I would look like the girls I imagined were shunning me. I ignored the sore feelings all over my body. The ones that made it difficult to life up my baby boy. I even imagined my back was getting better (it was not).
Cormac was allowed to stay in the day care for 90 minutes. I felt that I had to work hard the entire hour and a half. If I went to an hour long class that left 30 minutes for some self punishing. But some days I was so so tired. But if I couldn't do the work outs I would never be able to change. And I would be a failure. How hard could it be? Other people did it.
But after a series of horrible ear infections that Cormac managed to get every single time I'd take him to the day care we decided to take some time off. I think that's when I realized how incredibly burned out I was. Working out was awful. I hated it. I just wanted to lay around and never move again.
I tried going back to the gym a few times, but I would usually give up after a few days. It was too hard.
Yes, it's safe to say that sometimes I am hypocritical. I tell you all about how I'm trying to love my body where it is, but then I would go to the gym for a punishing 90 minutes after which I'd put the baby down for a nap and do at least another 30 minutes at home. But the only thing I was gaining was more and more injuries. And I really wasn't losing much weight, if any. I stop abusing food to abuse exercise. When I'm not abusing either of those I move on to money or obsessive house cleaning.
Learning to love yourself is hard work. For me learning all the different things I do to hide from dealing with my insecurities has been particularly difficult.
But I digress.
So I had stopped going to the gym or working out at all. But one day it was warm out. And sunny. And oh how I want Spring. So I put my little one in his stroller and out we went. It felt good. As I walked I started tuning in to my body. I loved the way it felt to walk and move. I realized how much I truly love to walk. Moving my body didn't have to be all punishment.
I finally decided to go back to a kick boxing class one day. After the class I would go home. No guilt over the last 30 minutes I didn't spend working out. That evening I did a nice 15 minute relaxing yoga routine to stretch out after the class and help avoid the aching in my body. I felt great.
I've come to the realization that little things add up. Getting a little physical activity in each day is far more beneficial to my health than killing myself for a few days/weeks in a row then taking a few months to recover.
So even though I may never have buns of steel (who wants to sit on steel anyway?) I can have an incredibly healthy heart and enjoy my body.