If you know me, you know that working out and physical fitness and all that shiz has never been my top priority. Do I want to be skinny? Yes. Do I want to look good naked? Sure do. But if it's at the expense of giving anything up anything that I love (booze, saturated fat, etc) then count me out. My history with working out has been spotty at best. I will work out consistently for a few months, and then I will let it go and not do a single exercise (other than walking to the bar) for months, until something motivates me to drag myself back to the gym or to the park to run with the dog. The sad part is that when I was working out consistently in college or in my twenties, I actually saw real results, which was awesome. But again, working out has never meant as much to me as it does to some.
Fast forward to two years post-baby and my late thirties, and I'm learning quickly that working out has become more of a crucial necessity than a laissez-faire attitude. Now that my kiddo is 20+ lbs, and with the specter of a second baby lurking in the back of my mind, I've realized that I absolutely have to make my physical fitness and strength more of a priority now than I ever have. And with that realization, I'm happy to report that I have actually managed to integrate this into my life rather successfully. And it's all due to an article I read on NPR's website about a little 22-minute workout.
I used to assume that in order to get an effective workout in, you had to be able to devote at least an hour or two at the gym. Because that's what I used to do when I was working out consistently. Whether it was in college or my twenties when I had both the time and inclination to spend it at the gym, I would usually spend a minimum of an hour on my workout. Since becoming a mom, I'm lucky if I have half that amount of time in the daylight to do jack shit for myself.
Disclaimer: I am totally the mom that spends just about all of my time with my kid or doing stuff for my kid, and yes, that makes me totally lame. I pass up opportunities all the time to go to Pacer games or concerts because it's bath night, or because my kid will die if I'm not there to put him to bed. Or maybe it's me who will die if I'm not part of every single minute of my kid's existence. Yep, that's me. Winner. Right here. But I digress.
So I read this article on NPR about how a 22-minute workout is just as effective as, say, an hour-long workout in terms of improving physical fitness, weight loss, etc. And since time for myself is at a premium these days, I thought why the fuck not. The reality is I do not have two hours to spend at the gym. We joined the YMCA back in December, and if I'm being honest with myself, the most ideal time for me to go and get a decent workout in is early in the AM before work. Talk about a daunting task. So I started to implement this 22-minute workout on the evenings that my husband put the kid to bed. I would quickly kiss my kid goodnight, rush to change into workout clothes and dash downstairs to the treadmill where I would do about 10-15 minutes of cardio, then 10 minutes of weights and then a few minutes of stretching. That routine would vary; sometimes I would spend more time on cardio if I was feeling particularly energetic or motivated. Sometimes I would get interrupted during strength training because my kid would start crying for me to come and rock him to sleep. Sometimes I would forget to stretch because I would get distracted by dishes or laundry. But the point is this: I was moving my fat ass and finally focusing on my body.
Some people can't relate to this reality: pregnancy fucks you up. Forever. Unless you're a teenager and your body bounces right back, carrying and birthing a baby will have significant effects on your body. Boobs sag and never come back up. C-section scars will magically push those mom guts out and over your waistband. Bladders will never feel quite right and you'll pee yourself when you sneeze. It's really easy to become very disheartened by this and, as a result, just not give a shit about how your body looks. If you're me, after doing the most major shit I've ever done, I just flat out didn't give a fuck about how I looked anymore. I didn't care about my gut or my saggy boobs or my ugly skin or my unkempt appearance or the spit-up stain on my shirt. I approached it with a "what? fight me" attitude. I had a baby, and these were my battle scars. This was my reality now, and I silently dared anyone to criticize my appearance. In hindsight, I'm sure I was also subconsciously (ok, consciously) making excuses for letting myself go. Though, I will defend the fact that having a C-section is a major fucking event and is not to be taken lightly.
Finally, two years after having a kid, I've decided that I'm sick and tired of still not fitting into some of my pre-pregnancy clothes or having to size up in pants because of my mom gut. I'm worried that when it comes time to have another baby, my sciatica with constantly flare up because I've failed to move my body in any meaningful way. And even after just a few months of working out whenever I possibly can find time to do so, I'm thrilled to report that I feel so much better, in every way possible. I feel empowered by the conscious decision to exercise, even if it's for a mere 45 minutes. I feel the bliss of devoting 100% of however much time I have to me and only me. I feel a sense of achievement when I push myself a little more at the gym. I feel pride when I wear workout pants to the store because I've actually just finished a workout, as opposed to when I wear them because I just don't want to wear real pants (which is most of the time). I walked around today consciously aware of the fact that even though I didn't necessarily look any thinner in the mirror, I actually felt thinner. I felt like I was walking around with better posture and an engaged core. Me. The girl who hates working out. I know, right.
I guess the point I'm trying to make here is this: It's never too late to care about your body and your wellness. It's never a waste to spend even the smallest amount of time on your body, and it may just motivate you enough to get you to a point where you actively seek out time for exercise, wellness, meditation, or whatever you feel like you need to feel your best. The other night, I felt a little guilty because rather than jump on the treadmill for fifteen minutes when I had the opportunity, I opted to lay in bed and finish reading my book instead. But I eventually reminded myself that my needs and priorities for my wellness go way beyond just a physical, aerobic expression. Contributing to my wellness may mean some quiet time reading or browsing aisles at Target or potting some indoor plants. Fitness doesn't always limit itself to gross motor activity. You absolutely have my permission to skip the gym today and spend some time reading or getting a massage or catching up on sleep. Do what you gotta do.
No comments:
Post a Comment