What Turning 30 Can Do To/For A Person
Ever since July when I joined a health club, I have been trying to get in shape. I have known for over a year that I have to do something about my athletic and health state, but I have been putting it off. Oh, I joined Weight Watchers twice, I tried South Beach for a week, I did the Reader's Digest "Change One" diet for a month, and Atkins for a few days, walked around the elementary gym for about a month during lunch, but I have not really been committed to making actual changes in how I eat and how much I move. And all the diets have seemed to have done is confirm that I can lie and cheat (I don't have to write the M&M's down in my food diary; I only had 10. How many calories could that be?). And the walking just made me smell kind of bad for the rest of the day.
At the beginning of the summer, I had promised myself that I would use this summer to turn my life around. I decided that I would walk UGA's campus between my two classes. I did this exactly twice. The first time wasn't bad; it was a pleasant morning. I thought, "I am woman hear me roar. I will be in J. Lo shape by the end of summer!" The second time, I became so hot and sweaty I nearly passed out, and I smelled so bad that I had to make sure I sat down wind of the members of my second class. That was the end of my rebirth as a fitness freak.
That, of course, was until July hit. At the end of June, I felt my age. No, scratch that, I felt older than my age. One day while driving home from graduate school, I pulled into the parking lot of the Fitness 19 health club, signed a contract, and I have not looked back since. I am now a confirmed person who exercises. I started out slow and grumpy. I did not want to go, I would rather be napping or watching Oprah. I would grasp the hand rails of the treadmill and snarl, cursing the fact that I had gotten fat enough to need to work out.
Somewhere around my third week, however, something happened. I decided I had to change my attitude. I told myself that lots of people enjoy working out and I could too. I just had to try. So I tried. That day instead of snarling, griping, and cursing, I decided to use my time on the treadmill to pray to God. I thought, "Yoga is supposed to be some kind of spiritual experience, can't treadmill walking also?" So I tried to make my walking spiritual. And you know what? It worked. God and I chatted, I ended feeling closer to him, and the time flew by.
So now I work out. If you glanced at me, you would not be able to tell. My abs are not buff and nothing on me is chiselled (yet). But I think I am closer now to whom God wants me to be. I have learned the spiritual/physical connection. Next, I need to learn the connection between that piece of chocolate cake I had with dinner and the size of my pants. Maybe that will be what I learn at 31.
At the beginning of the summer, I had promised myself that I would use this summer to turn my life around. I decided that I would walk UGA's campus between my two classes. I did this exactly twice. The first time wasn't bad; it was a pleasant morning. I thought, "I am woman hear me roar. I will be in J. Lo shape by the end of summer!" The second time, I became so hot and sweaty I nearly passed out, and I smelled so bad that I had to make sure I sat down wind of the members of my second class. That was the end of my rebirth as a fitness freak.
That, of course, was until July hit. At the end of June, I felt my age. No, scratch that, I felt older than my age. One day while driving home from graduate school, I pulled into the parking lot of the Fitness 19 health club, signed a contract, and I have not looked back since. I am now a confirmed person who exercises. I started out slow and grumpy. I did not want to go, I would rather be napping or watching Oprah. I would grasp the hand rails of the treadmill and snarl, cursing the fact that I had gotten fat enough to need to work out.
Somewhere around my third week, however, something happened. I decided I had to change my attitude. I told myself that lots of people enjoy working out and I could too. I just had to try. So I tried. That day instead of snarling, griping, and cursing, I decided to use my time on the treadmill to pray to God. I thought, "Yoga is supposed to be some kind of spiritual experience, can't treadmill walking also?" So I tried to make my walking spiritual. And you know what? It worked. God and I chatted, I ended feeling closer to him, and the time flew by.
So now I work out. If you glanced at me, you would not be able to tell. My abs are not buff and nothing on me is chiselled (yet). But I think I am closer now to whom God wants me to be. I have learned the spiritual/physical connection. Next, I need to learn the connection between that piece of chocolate cake I had with dinner and the size of my pants. Maybe that will be what I learn at 31.
posted by Jami | 9:51 AM
1 Comments:
you are my inspiration!! i too must do something but cannot seem to stop napping. but now, i have a bit more encouragement and resolve. now after my nap . . . !
Post a Comment
<< Home