I managed to exercise yesterday and today. Yesterday, though, I didn't make it out as early as I'd hoped, and the hot sun of the deep South was horrendous. It was only 8 a.m., but I still felt like I was going to melt. Regardless, while I was running, I began to wonder why it took me eleven years to get back to running. It feels good -- the endorphins are real -- and I don't want to stop.
Apparently the heat triggered some type of reaction, because this morning I woke up before my 5:30 alarm, with no desire to roll over and go back to sleep (despite having gotten very little quality sleep). I did my running, stretching, writing, and gardening done before anyone in the house was out of bed. There is something deeply satisfying about that.
Another important benefit that I wasn't expecting but am incredibly grateful for is a reduction in PMS symptoms. Usually, the primary way I know my "time of wrath" is coming is I behave like a heinous bitch and hate everyone I know, including myself. No annoyance is too small to invoke rage or abysmal depression; so, yeah, the fact that I am about to have my period and my stress level is only slightly elevated is a huge and amazing thing.
In general, my stress level has been greatly reduced. Things that used to give me serious anxiety don't phase me as they once did. This is not to say I have zero anxiety; but, because I am using by body's energy for propelling my body down the road, I don't feel like I'm going to jump out of my skin all day. It's a good thing.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
Day 7 -- One Week
So, I made it this far, skipping a few days of entries due to... Life. I got sick and, after recovering, decided to potty-train my daughter. The day after her first breakthrough, she got sick. Those are the kinds of bugs I had been expecting. I did not -- wait for it -- do anything resembling deliberate exercise from Wednesday on. Isn't that just the way life goes? At a certain point in life, you learn to just roll with the punches; but, at a later point in life, you learn how to better recover from the punches that fully connect. My latest punches are from physical illness, but I am hoping to get back into the swing of things tomorrow. Most important to this is getting a good night's sleep! My dear child hasn't been sleeping due to fever and generally feeling like crap, so that means I haven't been sleeping either. Perhaps tonight I will get more sleep, but regardless of that I must get up and do my intervals in the morning. I dealt with stress much less capably than I did on the days when I was exercising. Mainly I just want to avoid finding myself back at Square One... ok, I realize I'm not very far from Square One right now, which is why I have to work that much harder to make exercise a habit. I'm at a crucial point -- the point where nine times out of ten I just give up on whatever new thing I'm hoping will improve my life.
The fact is I am a better person when I exercise... I'm less stressed and more energetic, which enables me to be happier, which enables me to not be a joyless heezy, which enables me to be a better wife and mother. You get the idea. Everyone in my house wins when I spend a simple 20 minutes getting out of the house and getting my heart rate up. So, tomorrow I must not dismiss my alarm, no matter how much I want to go back to sleep.
Also, I miss the writing, though I must say just writing for three days -- the poems and the blog -- provided me a significant outlet for my creativity that sustained me through the stresses of the week.
The fact is I am a better person when I exercise... I'm less stressed and more energetic, which enables me to be happier, which enables me to not be a joyless heezy, which enables me to be a better wife and mother. You get the idea. Everyone in my house wins when I spend a simple 20 minutes getting out of the house and getting my heart rate up. So, tomorrow I must not dismiss my alarm, no matter how much I want to go back to sleep.
Also, I miss the writing, though I must say just writing for three days -- the poems and the blog -- provided me a significant outlet for my creativity that sustained me through the stresses of the week.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Day Three
I did not in any way want to wake up this morning. I remember dismissing my alarm instead of touching the snooze button, but I did manage to wake up 13 minutes later. I looked at the clock and wanted to turn over and go to sleep, but I remembered this little project I've started and got up. Yes, I know the likelihood that anyone but me will read this blog is not very high, but the possibility that anyone might helps me feel more accountable.
Yesterday, I had already decided I needed to walk today instead of run just to give my body a break as I'm just beginning again. I am so glad I decided to go for that walk, because the guilt from taking a day off on day three could have seriously derailed me.
Had I not done my exercise today, I would have blamed it on yesterday. Yesterday, my dear three-year-old daughter decided to have an absolute meltdown while shopping. I told her if she acted up again we would leave; and, when she did, we did. I put all the stuff back, grabbed my purse and walked my crying, shrieking little bundle of joy to the car. I thought it was bad at that point, but shit hadn't yet gotten real. When my daughter realized the book and toy she had selected weren't going home with us? That's when shit got real. I really needed to go get diapers, so we were going to go to another store before heading to my in-laws' house... that was the plan anyway. I told her if she didn't stop throwing a fit that instead of doing that we would go home. She yelled at me and shushed me. Uh-huh, that happened. So, I put the car in reverse and came back home, with my daughter throwing a fit -- a limbs-flailing, auditioning-for-the-part-of-Regan-in-the-remake-of-The-Exorcist fit -- almost the entire trip. We live about 45 minutes from the city in which we were shopping, so it was a pretty unpleasant drive. She only calmed down when she realized that the fit wasn't working and that I was bringing her home anyway.
I'm not telling this story to complain about how terrible motherhood is but to illustrate the stress-reducing effect of feel-good endorphins. If that would have happened last week, I would have had a meltdown myself. More than likely, I wouldn't have even had the strength to walk out of the store. I would have just sucked it up and let my child act like a holy terror. I want to be a better mother and know that I have room for improvement, but the only way I can improve on that front is if I feel better as a human being.
Yesterday, I had already decided I needed to walk today instead of run just to give my body a break as I'm just beginning again. I am so glad I decided to go for that walk, because the guilt from taking a day off on day three could have seriously derailed me.
Had I not done my exercise today, I would have blamed it on yesterday. Yesterday, my dear three-year-old daughter decided to have an absolute meltdown while shopping. I told her if she acted up again we would leave; and, when she did, we did. I put all the stuff back, grabbed my purse and walked my crying, shrieking little bundle of joy to the car. I thought it was bad at that point, but shit hadn't yet gotten real. When my daughter realized the book and toy she had selected weren't going home with us? That's when shit got real. I really needed to go get diapers, so we were going to go to another store before heading to my in-laws' house... that was the plan anyway. I told her if she didn't stop throwing a fit that instead of doing that we would go home. She yelled at me and shushed me. Uh-huh, that happened. So, I put the car in reverse and came back home, with my daughter throwing a fit -- a limbs-flailing, auditioning-for-the-part-of-Regan-in-the-remake-of-The-Exorcist fit -- almost the entire trip. We live about 45 minutes from the city in which we were shopping, so it was a pretty unpleasant drive. She only calmed down when she realized that the fit wasn't working and that I was bringing her home anyway.
I'm not telling this story to complain about how terrible motherhood is but to illustrate the stress-reducing effect of feel-good endorphins. If that would have happened last week, I would have had a meltdown myself. More than likely, I wouldn't have even had the strength to walk out of the store. I would have just sucked it up and let my child act like a holy terror. I want to be a better mother and know that I have room for improvement, but the only way I can improve on that front is if I feel better as a human being.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Wondering when my parallel life slipped through
At that hairpin turn in the road
Way back when
Nothing could hold me together
I miss you and
Can't help but think
I shouldn't
have
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Day Two
So, here I am on the second day of my journey. It is not yet 6:30 a.m., and I've already done my intervals, written a wee poem, made coffee, watered some plants, had a glass of water, eaten breakfast AND started my blog entry for the day. This probably doesn't sound like much, but for me in my recent life this is a big FAT deal.
Lately, life has very much been about survival. I have been waking up when my toddler daughter wakes up, so I have to hit the ground running the marathon that is a day of parenthood without a blink of time for myself. It is not a good thing. Hence I decided to do my best to wake up early every day, so I feel like I've accomplished something other than changing diapers, fixing breakfast and cleaning by mid morning.
I was surprised how easy the running went yesterday, though I think it went so smoothly because my body was completely caught off guard. When I was in the Army, I ran at least three days of the week, though I was not good at it and certainly did not like it. Since I became a civilian, I've run only over the course of a couple of weeks for an experiment comparing the elevation in heart rate resulting from vigorous aerobic exercise and that resulting from moderate aerobic exercise. Again, I was not a fan. Honestly, the only reason I'm running now is for these mythical feel-good endorphins I keep reading about. Basically, I'm trying to make depression my bitch.
For large swaths of my life, I've suffered from varying levels of depression. When I was 18, I was suicidal and diagnosed with clinical depression and had to go on Prozac for six months. The medication certainly helped, and since then I've had fewer problems, and nothing that time and prayer couldn't handle. I have worked hard to maintain a sunny disposition and stay optimistic despite whatever reality came my way. Since my miscarriage a few months ago, though, I've been wandering in a persistent fog of depression. I have been fatigued more than I ever have in my life, and I routinely cry for "no reason" at all. I remember sinking down, down, down to the point where I wanted to take my own life when I was younger; and I have no interest in going there again. I have a husband and daughter counting on me, and I CANNOT let that happen... never mind that it just generally sucks. I admitted to my husband that I was not well at all, which he certainly knew, and that I had to do something or things could get worse, which he did not know. Exercise is my last-ditch effort to avoid falling further into the deep pit of depression and to avoid prescription anti-depressants.
OK, so the feel-good endorphins are not mythical. I understand I'm only two days in, and really anything can happen that can screw up my progress; but I am finding my mood to be better. The urge to cry did crop up a couple of times yesterday, but I muddled through; and overall I had a good day. I had more energy to attend to whatever needed my attention. A real perk that I found yesterday and today is a lack of nervous energy, which I customarily have in abundance... the kind of energy that makes me feel like a lab rat in a maze, darting around in no particular direction. So that was gone yesterday and hasn't reappeared today. Perhaps, I can learn what this word "relax" really means.
The following is the wee "poem" I wrote this morning:
In breaking free,
We are able to take hold
When our hands are empty,
We may use them to glorify what is Holy
Lately, life has very much been about survival. I have been waking up when my toddler daughter wakes up, so I have to hit the ground running the marathon that is a day of parenthood without a blink of time for myself. It is not a good thing. Hence I decided to do my best to wake up early every day, so I feel like I've accomplished something other than changing diapers, fixing breakfast and cleaning by mid morning.
I was surprised how easy the running went yesterday, though I think it went so smoothly because my body was completely caught off guard. When I was in the Army, I ran at least three days of the week, though I was not good at it and certainly did not like it. Since I became a civilian, I've run only over the course of a couple of weeks for an experiment comparing the elevation in heart rate resulting from vigorous aerobic exercise and that resulting from moderate aerobic exercise. Again, I was not a fan. Honestly, the only reason I'm running now is for these mythical feel-good endorphins I keep reading about. Basically, I'm trying to make depression my bitch.
For large swaths of my life, I've suffered from varying levels of depression. When I was 18, I was suicidal and diagnosed with clinical depression and had to go on Prozac for six months. The medication certainly helped, and since then I've had fewer problems, and nothing that time and prayer couldn't handle. I have worked hard to maintain a sunny disposition and stay optimistic despite whatever reality came my way. Since my miscarriage a few months ago, though, I've been wandering in a persistent fog of depression. I have been fatigued more than I ever have in my life, and I routinely cry for "no reason" at all. I remember sinking down, down, down to the point where I wanted to take my own life when I was younger; and I have no interest in going there again. I have a husband and daughter counting on me, and I CANNOT let that happen... never mind that it just generally sucks. I admitted to my husband that I was not well at all, which he certainly knew, and that I had to do something or things could get worse, which he did not know. Exercise is my last-ditch effort to avoid falling further into the deep pit of depression and to avoid prescription anti-depressants.
OK, so the feel-good endorphins are not mythical. I understand I'm only two days in, and really anything can happen that can screw up my progress; but I am finding my mood to be better. The urge to cry did crop up a couple of times yesterday, but I muddled through; and overall I had a good day. I had more energy to attend to whatever needed my attention. A real perk that I found yesterday and today is a lack of nervous energy, which I customarily have in abundance... the kind of energy that makes me feel like a lab rat in a maze, darting around in no particular direction. So that was gone yesterday and hasn't reappeared today. Perhaps, I can learn what this word "relax" really means.
^^^^^^^^^^^
In breaking free,
We are able to take hold
When our hands are empty,
We may use them to glorify what is Holy
Monday, June 18, 2012
Day One
Today, the darling husband woke me up after 5 a.m.. I am unashamed to say I needed help getting started on this first day of what I know will be a long journey. I got up, stumbled around in the dim pre-dawn light, found my workout clothes, brushed my teeth, and got out the front door by 5:30. I did intervals... walking and running. I didn't break any speed records, but I survived and didn't blow out a knee; so that's something. I made it back by 6 a.m. and did my stretches while focusing on the horizon as the sun rose.
When I got back, I spent some time on the back porch with a journal I've had for some time but have been waiting to use. Embarking on a better life seemed a special enough occasion to begin using it. I wrote the following poem, the first I've written in a very long time:
The odds are against us
Living things
The impossibility
Of our creation
Of our birth
And yet in this sliver of possibility
We are
The probing tip of a root
The buzzing of bees
The singing of birds
Our very breath
Seeking survival
for its own sake?
When I got back, I spent some time on the back porch with a journal I've had for some time but have been waiting to use. Embarking on a better life seemed a special enough occasion to begin using it. I wrote the following poem, the first I've written in a very long time:
The odds are against us
Living things
The impossibility
Of our creation
Of our birth
And yet in this sliver of possibility
We are
The probing tip of a root
The buzzing of bees
The singing of birds
Our very breath
Seeking survival
for its own sake?
Launch
So, today I'm launching the beta test for Life v 4.0. Previous versions of Life include Life 1.0 (active from birth until beginning of first marriage), Life 1.1 (active from beginning to end of first marriage), Life 2.0 (active from divorce to beginning of second marriage), Life 2.1 (active from beginning of second marriage to the birth of daughter), and Life 3.0 (active from the time of miscarriage of second child to the release of the latest version).
This latest version hopes to address certain problems that have been overlooked in previous versions of Life, namely lack of exercise and devotion to creativity. There will be bugs. I am well aware of this, but I am hoping I can work these out in collaboration with my Programmer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)