So, I walk.
"I wasted time, now doth time waste me." William Shakespeare
I'm feeling in the passage of time. I've told Mc that I blame it on his turning 18, but the reality is that I've been feeling it for the last several months. Suddenly, the image in the mirror shocks me. I'm looking more and more like my mother every day....which wouldn't be a bad thing, since I see her as a very attractive woman. Or, rather, she CAN be when she wants to. Heh-heh! No, the real horror is that Mom, and then eventually me, may begin to look more and more like my maternal grandmother.
Let's face it, obesity is a part of my genetic make up. I've already made great strides in terms of my diet. Fast food has been virtually non-existent in my menu for years now. I've always preferred fruits and veggies to fatty dishes, chocolate, or sweets. My biggest downfall (besides portion control) is BREAD. Oh boy....do I ever love bread, potatoes, rice, noodles.....if it's starchy, it makes me drool.
Alas.
OK, so for years I resisted excercise. I have always hated it, have always resented it. But now I acknowledge that I must come to terms with it and make it a part of my life. Last fall I started attending several outdoor activities offered by the Polk County Conservationists.....fun, free activities that I could do with my boys, and which was getting me off my couch and moving. That tapered off to nothing with the onset of winter, but now that the weather is good again, I find myself at it again.
What I've learned.....I'm not a "gym" kinda gal. Pumping away the calories on a big machine while staring blearily at a tv or magazine just doesn't do it for me. I will quit working out LONG before I should.
So, I walk. A comfy pair of sneakers, a pedometer, and $2 in my pocket to treat myself to a diet soda during the last stretch, and I can cover a lot of territory. The trick, at first, was to march in a straight line until I was butt-tired, and then and only then did I turn around and head home. A good way to squeeze out some extra work, since I had no choice other than to camp out on the curb.
Someone told me about a site that introduced a training plan for inactive people to start a jogging regimine. "From couch to 5K" it was called. I read it, thought, "I can do this!!!" and headed out to the track. Less than two minutes later, I was bent over double, coughing up a lung. It was torture, and I knew that I would quit excercising long before I got my body used to that kind of workout.
So, I walk. I started off at 3 miles a day. Now, I'm at 6 miles a day. I made it 7.25 one day, but my feet hurt so bad that I decided I had pushed too fast. The object isn't to abuse myself. It's to make myself stronger and, hopefully, leaner.
I visited my doctor last week. I handed him my health chart, on which I'd logged my weight, mileage, steps, and daily calories. At first, he was thrilled that I had finally started excercising. Then he started comparing the daily calories against the daily output vs my weight. He was stymied. He said he absolutely could not understand why I wasn't losing weight.
Depressed, I called my mother. She, like me, had battled her weight her entire life. Her doctor had told her that had she been alive as an early man, she would have survived. Her body, like mine, has mastered hoarding and conserving fat. But, she pointed out, that's no longer why she excercises. She knows she'll never be thin. Noone in our family is. But, the women in our family, due to weight and inactivity, tend to get weak in their old age. They can't get around on their own, they become dependent on others. Mom's goal is not about looking fasionable, it's abut staying strong. Staying healthy. Staying mobile and happy. And staying independent.
So, I walk. I still monitor my calories, but I haven't quite given up hope that I may yet win the battle of the bulge. But I AM getting stronger. I'm walking further all the time. My clothes aren't fitting any differently, but underneath my familiar layer of blubber, I suspect I can feel a new ridge of muscle.
I'm feeling in the passage of time. I've told Mc that I blame it on his turning 18, but the reality is that I've been feeling it for the last several months. Suddenly, the image in the mirror shocks me. I'm looking more and more like my mother every day....which wouldn't be a bad thing, since I see her as a very attractive woman. Or, rather, she CAN be when she wants to. Heh-heh! No, the real horror is that Mom, and then eventually me, may begin to look more and more like my maternal grandmother.
Let's face it, obesity is a part of my genetic make up. I've already made great strides in terms of my diet. Fast food has been virtually non-existent in my menu for years now. I've always preferred fruits and veggies to fatty dishes, chocolate, or sweets. My biggest downfall (besides portion control) is BREAD. Oh boy....do I ever love bread, potatoes, rice, noodles.....if it's starchy, it makes me drool.
Alas.
OK, so for years I resisted excercise. I have always hated it, have always resented it. But now I acknowledge that I must come to terms with it and make it a part of my life. Last fall I started attending several outdoor activities offered by the Polk County Conservationists.....fun, free activities that I could do with my boys, and which was getting me off my couch and moving. That tapered off to nothing with the onset of winter, but now that the weather is good again, I find myself at it again.
What I've learned.....I'm not a "gym" kinda gal. Pumping away the calories on a big machine while staring blearily at a tv or magazine just doesn't do it for me. I will quit working out LONG before I should.
So, I walk. A comfy pair of sneakers, a pedometer, and $2 in my pocket to treat myself to a diet soda during the last stretch, and I can cover a lot of territory. The trick, at first, was to march in a straight line until I was butt-tired, and then and only then did I turn around and head home. A good way to squeeze out some extra work, since I had no choice other than to camp out on the curb.
Someone told me about a site that introduced a training plan for inactive people to start a jogging regimine. "From couch to 5K" it was called. I read it, thought, "I can do this!!!" and headed out to the track. Less than two minutes later, I was bent over double, coughing up a lung. It was torture, and I knew that I would quit excercising long before I got my body used to that kind of workout.
So, I walk. I started off at 3 miles a day. Now, I'm at 6 miles a day. I made it 7.25 one day, but my feet hurt so bad that I decided I had pushed too fast. The object isn't to abuse myself. It's to make myself stronger and, hopefully, leaner.
I visited my doctor last week. I handed him my health chart, on which I'd logged my weight, mileage, steps, and daily calories. At first, he was thrilled that I had finally started excercising. Then he started comparing the daily calories against the daily output vs my weight. He was stymied. He said he absolutely could not understand why I wasn't losing weight.
Depressed, I called my mother. She, like me, had battled her weight her entire life. Her doctor had told her that had she been alive as an early man, she would have survived. Her body, like mine, has mastered hoarding and conserving fat. But, she pointed out, that's no longer why she excercises. She knows she'll never be thin. Noone in our family is. But, the women in our family, due to weight and inactivity, tend to get weak in their old age. They can't get around on their own, they become dependent on others. Mom's goal is not about looking fasionable, it's abut staying strong. Staying healthy. Staying mobile and happy. And staying independent.
So, I walk. I still monitor my calories, but I haven't quite given up hope that I may yet win the battle of the bulge. But I AM getting stronger. I'm walking further all the time. My clothes aren't fitting any differently, but underneath my familiar layer of blubber, I suspect I can feel a new ridge of muscle.
posted by Rhonda L at 9:44 AM
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