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?

Comments

comments