Last week, I talked about the Forward March. This "movement" is a bit different. This one is about the movement that keeps your body at its optimal level, that keeps your feeling good, that keeps your healthier.
Before I came to Lubbock in August '09, I was on the road to better movement. I exercised three, four times a week. I drank less coffee. I drank less soda. I drank more water. I cut a lot of fast food, fried foods from my diet. And it showed. Not only was my cholesterol levels getting back to normal, but I was also losing weight. Was even able to purchase jeans two sizes smaller than the ones I had worn in what felt like forever.
And then I moved.
Have you ever heard of the Freshman 10? Freshman 15 (probably now the Freshman 20!)? It's the theory (very loose theory) that when a freshman goes off to college, he or she (usually she) will probably gain about 10, 15 pounds.
Well, I'm here to tell you that not only is this theory true (for me anyway), but it also moves outside of the "freshman" arena. Here I am a grown woman, a PhDer, and I couldn't stop the pounds from accumulating.
And the thing is I didn't, at first, see the weight piling on. I felt it. When I stood. When I turned a certain way. When I got into the car. When I got out of the car. When I just tossed my foot up on my knee (or attempted to) to tie my shoes. When I walked from classroom building to the Frozen Tundra (where I park).
By the time I went home for Christmas break, I had confirmation I had gained weight: a pair of my jeans was just a wee bit too snug. They are now on the floor in the back of my closet.
It wasn't hard to see what had happened. Five months of running out to buy Mickey D's instead of making dinner. Of buying white chocolate mochas from the Bux with whip and real milk (none of that low-fat mess). Of placing comfort food between lips when I was homesick, depressed, etc. And especially--of no movement.
I had stopped moving. There was no exercising. Of course, I was constantly running across campus and moving from here to there, but that all became a part of my life. It wasn't an exercise regimen. It was what my body got used to doing because of my new role. In fact, that part of my life wasn't too different. Back home in LA, I went from here to there all the time. And I sat on my butt a lot, too, editing and writing. The difference was three, four times a week, I dedicated 45 minutes to an hour riding my bike or going for walks or lifting weight or a combination of these and other exercises.
By the time I came back to the Buck (for Lubbock, not to be confused with the Bux for Starbucks), the problem with my weight became one component of my depression. And I didn't want to talk about it. Mainly because I was embarrassed. I let myself get like this. I wasn't sure I could get myself out of it. I mean there was no way I was just going to stand up and do an hour of cardio. I knew I'd pass out before that happened.
Last week, I was talking to my sister from another mother about some random thing, and all of the sudden, I blurted out my frustration with my weight and how it made me feel. She suggested I not think so BIG. Not think about jumping on the bike and riding for an hour. To start small. Take ten minutes out of the day for light cardio, for movement. Do that for two weeks, then move up to 15 or 20 minutes and do that for two weeks, and on and on until I get up to where I used to be.
I thought, Surely I can dedicate 10 minutes out of 24 hours to move for the betterment of me, so I did it that night. By the third night, I actually felt more loose, able to move in ways that didn't tire me as much. By the fourth night, it became fun. I would be out somewhere and thinking about what I would do for my ten minutes when I got home.
This is day five, and I'm already feeling the "burn" in my arms from the weights and in my legs from the stepping machine. And better than all of day, mentally, I feel better. Because I made a decision and then acted upon that decision, I see me differently now. I don't just see what I am today but what I can become tomorrow, and the next day if I continue to act, to move.
Sure, there are going to be days I will say, "Screw this. Mickey D's!" But now that I have put myself in movement, my mind will question those thoughts and maybe, more often than not, I will go home to the baked fish and steamed vegetables and feel better having done so.
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