For those of you who know me, you're probably experiencing something akin to shock. I am not a lover of cardio workouts. In the past, the only form of exercise I've really enjoyed is that which "tricks" me into thinking I'm not really exercising at all...dancing (my first love and first exercise), skiing, walking, and now...cycling!
(Does anybody else think it's cheesy that I ended both paragraphs with
ellipses, followed by italics and capped of with an exclamation point?)
ellipses, followed by italics and capped of with an exclamation point?)
I have my sister Heather to thank for this new love. Perhaps we should call it an infatuation at this point. I mean, the relationship is still in the early stages after all. My sister began riding after a diagnosis of Rheumatoid Arthritis, when she realized that cycling would be a good form of exercise that would spare her joints the percussive jolt that is caused by other forms of exercising (she may have more of a story than that, and I'm probably not doing it justice). She herself took a 2 year hiatus from cycling when she was pregnant with my nephew and during his first year. As I myself have had some pretty solid joint pain, she has periodically - and subtly - mentioned to me that it would be a great form of exercise for me. Heather knows me well, and she repeatedly told me that she thought I would actually enjoy cycling.
Little did I know, she was right. Seven months post baby, I've hit the same physical and emotional wall that I slammed into when Connor was 7 months old...the Oh-My-Gosh-The-Rest-Of-This-Weight-Isn't-Going-To-Just-Fall-Off-On-It's-Own wall. And so, in conjunction with trying to make "healthier choices" (in quotes because that in itself could be a whole other blog post), I decided that exercise, in all of its drudgery, was just going to have to become a part of my life. Now, that does not mean that I intend to take a bike ride every single day. No matter how much I wanted to, my life does not allow for that. My life also doesn't allow for a daily workout at this point. That's why I say that I'm making healthier choices. After all, going for a 15 mile bike ride a few times a week is certainly more healthy than not doing anything, isn't it?
I know that people who truly love exercise (though it's hard for me to even fathom), are cringing at my lack of commitment, but you know what? This works for me. And that's the important thing. I know me. As long as it is something I am able to do on my terms, I'll be able to stick with it. For me it's more about having a little time out by myself, an hour or two of peace and quiet with the smell of the fields all around me and the wind in my face. I'm hooked the same way I was hooked on riding the motorcycle that my dad gave me when I was 17. Unless you've experienced a rural road without a the restraints of a windshield, it's hard to explain. There's just really something to having a 360 degree unobstructed view of the scenery surrounding you. You actually become part of the landscape.
The first time my sister took me out, I remember watching a motorcyclist as he swerved to get around me, and then passed me by.
"Man, I'd rather be you right now buddy!" was all I could think, as I noted we were quickly approaching a not insignificant downhill that I would have to eventually ride back up. However, it was when we turned around several miles later and rode back over that same stretch of road; back up the hill we had cruised down so easily, that I realized that being on something powered by me is just what I need right now. Months of not necessarily feeling badly about myself, but also not feeling good about myself melted away as I climbed that hill panting, screaming at my sister silently in my head for pushing me to stay with it in her own gentle way. You can only go so long before not feeling pretty gets to you, and the moment I got to the top of that hill, the months of feeling trapped in a body that I don't recognize seemed like they were beginning to recede. A feeling of accomplishment began to eek in, and I remembered something about myself: I can be motivated, and I am a hard worker. Maybe there was a chance for me to get my groove back after all. My sister's voice behind me, gently urging me on, and congratulating me when I got to the top was like hearing a little voice inside of me that has been quiet for too many months now. It's that little voice that tells you you're beautiful, and you're worthwhile. And somehow her voice planted itself in my heart. I tell you with a bit of embarrassment that I burst into tears when I got to the top of that hill, and I rode for a good mile with those tears rolling down my face being cooled by the wind. I'm pretty sure my sister didn't realize just how much it impacted me, being able to ride up that hill, and being able to ride 15 miles my first time out.
Last weekend, I made a choice to get on my bike and go for a ride instead of heading to the mall to buy a new dress that I really didn't feel like buying for my frame that is 20 pounds heavier than normal and is still toting a belly that looks 5 months pregnant. It was my first solo ride, and as I don't yet have the equipment to tell me how far I've ridden or how fast I'm going, I just did a loop out to my sister's house and back. Little did I know that loop was 20.37 miles! And while that in itself gives me a feeling of pride and accomplishment, it's the view that I had when I got close to home and took a moment to glance back up a hill I had just ridden down that left me with the biggest impression. Turning around I saw the mountains behind me, dark purple in the evening glow of a sunset that was deep orange and red and yellow. The weeds by the river smelled sweet and I could hear it bubbling past.
"I am okay," I thought. "I am going to be just fine. This will all happen in good time, and moments like these are the times that are good!"
Little did I know, she was right. Seven months post baby, I've hit the same physical and emotional wall that I slammed into when Connor was 7 months old...the Oh-My-Gosh-The-Rest-Of-This-Weight-Isn't-Going-To-Just-Fall-Off-On-It's-Own wall. And so, in conjunction with trying to make "healthier choices" (in quotes because that in itself could be a whole other blog post), I decided that exercise, in all of its drudgery, was just going to have to become a part of my life. Now, that does not mean that I intend to take a bike ride every single day. No matter how much I wanted to, my life does not allow for that. My life also doesn't allow for a daily workout at this point. That's why I say that I'm making healthier choices. After all, going for a 15 mile bike ride a few times a week is certainly more healthy than not doing anything, isn't it?
I know that people who truly love exercise (though it's hard for me to even fathom), are cringing at my lack of commitment, but you know what? This works for me. And that's the important thing. I know me. As long as it is something I am able to do on my terms, I'll be able to stick with it. For me it's more about having a little time out by myself, an hour or two of peace and quiet with the smell of the fields all around me and the wind in my face. I'm hooked the same way I was hooked on riding the motorcycle that my dad gave me when I was 17. Unless you've experienced a rural road without a the restraints of a windshield, it's hard to explain. There's just really something to having a 360 degree unobstructed view of the scenery surrounding you. You actually become part of the landscape.
The first time my sister took me out, I remember watching a motorcyclist as he swerved to get around me, and then passed me by.
"Man, I'd rather be you right now buddy!" was all I could think, as I noted we were quickly approaching a not insignificant downhill that I would have to eventually ride back up. However, it was when we turned around several miles later and rode back over that same stretch of road; back up the hill we had cruised down so easily, that I realized that being on something powered by me is just what I need right now. Months of not necessarily feeling badly about myself, but also not feeling good about myself melted away as I climbed that hill panting, screaming at my sister silently in my head for pushing me to stay with it in her own gentle way. You can only go so long before not feeling pretty gets to you, and the moment I got to the top of that hill, the months of feeling trapped in a body that I don't recognize seemed like they were beginning to recede. A feeling of accomplishment began to eek in, and I remembered something about myself: I can be motivated, and I am a hard worker. Maybe there was a chance for me to get my groove back after all. My sister's voice behind me, gently urging me on, and congratulating me when I got to the top was like hearing a little voice inside of me that has been quiet for too many months now. It's that little voice that tells you you're beautiful, and you're worthwhile. And somehow her voice planted itself in my heart. I tell you with a bit of embarrassment that I burst into tears when I got to the top of that hill, and I rode for a good mile with those tears rolling down my face being cooled by the wind. I'm pretty sure my sister didn't realize just how much it impacted me, being able to ride up that hill, and being able to ride 15 miles my first time out.
Last weekend, I made a choice to get on my bike and go for a ride instead of heading to the mall to buy a new dress that I really didn't feel like buying for my frame that is 20 pounds heavier than normal and is still toting a belly that looks 5 months pregnant. It was my first solo ride, and as I don't yet have the equipment to tell me how far I've ridden or how fast I'm going, I just did a loop out to my sister's house and back. Little did I know that loop was 20.37 miles! And while that in itself gives me a feeling of pride and accomplishment, it's the view that I had when I got close to home and took a moment to glance back up a hill I had just ridden down that left me with the biggest impression. Turning around I saw the mountains behind me, dark purple in the evening glow of a sunset that was deep orange and red and yellow. The weeds by the river smelled sweet and I could hear it bubbling past.
"I am okay," I thought. "I am going to be just fine. This will all happen in good time, and moments like these are the times that are good!"
No comments:
Post a Comment