See Fantastic Fear Trifecta for previous ‘Saddlebags’ entry.
Last week, the wind was whipping around our campus buildings at full force, temperatures were somewhere in the lower-frigid quadrant and I was walking in my medium-high heels to The Little Bakery. From my office to this cozy little establishment is the equivalent of about two city blocks in distance. I hadn’t taken four steps outside when I thought, “Forget this, I’m running.” I ran on my toes all the way to the cafe, kicking in my “running-type breathing” about halfway there.
I walked in, checked out the healthy meals in the cooler, didn’t like what I saw and walked over to the second display to view the salads. Then I got lost in thought: I had just chosen to run. In heels, no less. Whaaattt?? I’m sorry, who am I? And, when have I ever CHOSEN to run in – oh, say – the last year?
Then I remembered I CHOSE to walk up the stairs that day. The choice wasn’t even conscious. I just remember thinking, “I want to stretch my legs.” That’s it. Then I thought back to my workout on Tuesday. It was brutal…I had gotten there a little late due to an advising session with one of my students and I didn’t really warm up. We spent most of the time lifting weights, and at the end of the session, Brennan said, “Okay. That’s it – you’re done.”
So what did I say back to him? “Um, the bottom part of my arms right here…they don’t feel stretched out.” He said, “Okay – then you need to take these (he hands me the weights) and start here on both sides, by your ears, and lift them straight up.” I did, my muscles felt more stretched and worked, and THEN we were done. “Thanks,” I said. “That’s what I needed.”
That’s what I needed? I’m NOT done? What?!?
So, as far as I can count, three times last week I chose to do something healthy rather than the opposite, I actually did my own cardio session on our treadmill Sunday afternoon, and when walking my dog Saturday morning, I ran the entire time, stopping only once. I DON’T KNOW ME ANYMORE!
I’m forty-eight years old and suddenly I’m choosing to run in heels, walk the stairs and use a treadmill we’ve had in the utility room for almost six years. My body feels like it needs to be worked occasionally, and – wait for it – – – I can actually feel some sort of shape to my biceps. And calves, and thighs. Ha!
Maybe I don’t know myself anymore, but it’s time to get acquainted. I’m feeling better and am actually NOT dreading my workout today. Maybe I’m dreaming, but I think this could be a sign of progress?