Wednesday, July 17, 2013
I used to love exercise in my twenties and thirties. It gave me guaranteed results for my effort. Exercise was a release, an identity, and a social outlet. Weight training let me turn my inner nerdiness into something admired by all types. Running gave me a chance to rest my mind and occasionally reach the coveted high. Aerobics allowed me to pretend I was part of a colorful dance video.
But now exercise is hard. I just can't reach the levels to make the changes. Today I tried mixing intervals of fast and slow on the treadmill. When going fast I was trying to decide if I could attempt a slow jog. Nope. A twinge in my good knee stopped me. I know better than trying to work through new pains because much of the time it becomes chronic. Physical therapy with its cost and time is not allowed to be in my future. So I settled for a fast walk. My bunions sent out a signal of dislike. I know I'm long overdue for new running shoes, but I just bought new casual sneakers before vacation. I'll have to stick it out a few billing cycles. I switched to the bike and did some intervals, keeping in mind that burning thighs lead to the Tylenol bottle at 2:00 am. So I did a moderate workout. I give myself tons of credit for completing a workout. However, it was nothing I yearned for. Maybe each workout will build on the previous one. Maybe I'll climb out of this physical condition into which my downward spiral sent me, but I know it's going to take a very long time. As always, I just have to keep trying.