I HATE EXERCISE!!! With a passion. I just returned from a morning bike ride with my husband, and I must constantly try to find reasons that feeling like this could ever be worth it again tomorrow.
I look (and smell) like something the cat dragged in, and that is something I know is true after having lived for seventeen years with the toughest cat in the world who frequently drags all manner of disgustin’ things in.
This kitty has no front claws, is ancient for an outside cat and still hunts successfully almost every day. His name is Rajah and he is convinced he is royalty. Somehow, he inspires me.
All my life, when forced to exercise I’ve waited for that adrenaline rush that certain folks who do this for fun tell me happens, and that great euphoria upon completion. Yeah. I’m convinced that’s a big, fat lie. The only euphoria I feel is the moment I get home and I pretty much kiss the dirt because I’m still alive.
I am, however, trying with everything in me to choose to look at it with a positive outlook. Kinda like when I’m paying a bill, instead of being resentful for the ridiculous amount of money going into someone else’s pocket, I say (sometimes through clenched teeth), “Thank You, Lord, that I have the money to pay this bill.”
So, “Thank You, Lord, that I have a healthy body that is able to walk and ride bikes. No matter how much I hate doing it.”
We watch TV at our house about once a month. We choose not to pay for cable. When we first moved into this house about 9 years ago, we opted out of paying for cable. We stayed TV-less for close to two years. Let me tell you, we spent more fun time together in those years! The kids played more, Christian and I laughed together as we played Yahtzee and Cribbage every night. It was lovely. Before we left on the big trip last year, we cut our cable again and haven’t had it since. We have local channels and can watch movies and it has been a blessing.
Anyway, the other night we happened to catch a show about extreme weight loss and there was this guy, Wally, who was 490 lbs. and on this amazing plan to lose half of that weight. His trainer put him on a bike midway through his weight loss to ride 100 miles! The man was 365 pounds and it was one hundred and eleven degrees outside and, God bless him, he made it forty miles before he collapsed.
Christian’s grandpa, whom we love dearly, is well into his eighties and has always walked several miles per day. He also rides his bike all over our city whenever possible. That is beyond amazing!
So, as I ride my few little miles this morning, I find myself inspired by Wally and Grandpa. And Rajah. If they can do it, I really need to quit whining.
I’m getting older. It’s an ugly fact. My body is mushy where it was never mushy before. I have some sparkly hairs on my head hiding under brown ones. Not okay.
Next week, the most important day of the year is coming up. I am reminding my family daily that it’s coming, and it’s time to get excited!!
It’s a day when a new number gets attached to my identity. It’s also a day where I am reminded of my mortality. Darn it.
I can’t help the number that is my age. I can control how gracefully I handle it. I refuse to act my age. What fun would that be? I always want to be healthy and fun and do the things I do now like tube down the river and go geocaching and swim in the big waves and ride my bike and laugh and play and be grateful for every moment and my ability to participate in it.
For by You I can run against a troop,
By my God I can leap over a wall.
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