“You’re in pretty good shape for the shape you are in.” ~ Dr. Seuss
I’ve been hemming and hawing for a while about getting back in shape, and how I’d do it. The one thing I did know was that I wanted to stop giving my money to gyms, and do it myself. I don’t need to go to the gym to get fit. Since childhood, I’ve been an athlete. From neighborhood football games and made up relay races to organized sports like soccer, softball, and basketball, being physical has always been part of my life. Somewhere along the way, I lost the love of it.
Some time between ages 11 – 13, I’d decided I was going to be on the Olympic track team. A friend would go with me to the sand dunes and help me work out. I don’t even know if I was good enough. Before I got to it, I started competing and saw that winning meant something to people. Other girls would cry or get upset if they were beat. The feeling of speed and power was amazing; all I wanted to do was run. I stopped being as fast or trying as hard. I didn’t care if I won, at least not in the same way. I think in giving up that joy I lost something. A bit of a connection to my body. I want it back.
A friend is on a run streak (89 days). He’s inspired me to get out there again. I send him a text the other day saying I was starting to train again. Of course, he was excited. On Day 1, he checked in to see how it went. It didn’t. He gave me this nice encouraging, “You have to try” response, then got increasingly Drill Sargenty on me. He’s a former Marine. Don’t know how I thought the soft and cuddly was gonna last. As I do, I decided to read his responses the way I wanted them to be said. In the end, I promised to keep trying. Well, my trying is never really half-assed. Either I do something or I don’t. As a result, I spent Sunday morning and afternoon scheduling my training and upcoming events until the end of October.
Today is a Stretch and Strengthen day, which for me means yoga. Love it! On the way home, Wienerschnitzel tried to get me (I don’t even eat hot dogs!). The Pho place down the road, which I swear was not there before tonight, called me. Pollo Campero was asking me to pay a visit. If I had passed a donut place, I may not have made it home unscathed. I tell you what…this whole reclaiming business is not for the faint of heart.