Old Dog, New Tricks

Did you hear it? You had to have heard it. It was amazingly loud. It was a deep, from your toes laughter bursting out from a pool in a nearby Downriver community. Why the exceptional laughter? Well, I was participating in my first ever deep water aerobics class. I am the first to admit that when God was passing out the coordination gene… he looked at me and said… “No! Next!” If the fitness equivalent to Forbes magazine ever put out a list of the top 50 most uncoordinated, un-athletic females in America, I think I’d be… at least in the 40’s. It has appeared at times that I gravitate toward that little lip on the sidewalk just to be able to trip over it. I’m the person in your office you worry about. You think maybe something funny is happening at home because of the strange bruises. But nope, really it’s all me. I don’t usually tell this story but I think it will bring this point home. Years ago I worked at an airport. Due to weather issues I had not arrived home until 4 am. Exhausted I got everyone out the door to work and school. As I attempted to wind down and get some rest, I heard the garbage truck coming down the street. I knew we had neglected to take the recycling bin out for pick up for a number of weeks. So I bolted up, grabbed the overflowing bin and took off out the front door. Now I had been in and out that front door for roughly 5 years, hundreds if not thousands of times. But this time was different. This time I neglected to actually walk down the 8 cement steps from the porch to the sidewalk. As I felt myself free falling I didn’t duck or tuck to protect myself. I didn’t think of how best to land to reduce the risk of injury. Nope, my thoughts were on who may be watching and what level of embarrassment I may be about to confront. I landed on my knees and knew I was really injured. But after a lifetime of spills and falls I was undeterred in my task. I hopped up, ran around the yard retrieving the recyclables and just in the nick of time met the garbage truck as it approached the end of the driveway. As I sprinted in to the house, doing my best not to cry at the pain, I realized I had really injured my knees. So logically one would get in the car and head to the ER or doctor. Not me, I went to sleep, got up a few hours later, did my Mom stuff and went to work. OK, I took a large amount of Tylenol too. Later that week a neighbor asked me if I was OK as he had seen the fall. I was mortified but as is my way, I smiled and brushed it off as if nothing had happened. Years later when severe knee problems began to set in, an Orthopedic Surgeon ask as he studied my x-rays and MRI… “So how long ago did you break you kneecaps”? 6 knee surgeries later it may have sunk in that if I hurt myself maybe I need to “man-up” and admit it.

My life style up until last fall was active but not in terms of fitness or exercise. I did many things but have to admit I would have to classify my life as sedentary. Oh I would take the occasional walk and keep at it for a couple weeks. The same can be said for diets. But once I tripped up either actually or metaphorically, I would give up. Each time I gave up, I really did more harm to my well being than I could imagine. As everything in my life changed last year, both internally and externally, I began to question myself and my actions. Among the millions of questions I have asked myself was why wasn’t I in better shape. In my head I knew what I needed to do. My difficulty came in learning to let myself fail as well as succeed. What would I have to lose, no pun intended, if I began to eat a healthy well balanced diet? Not diet, but change how, when and why I ate. What would be the worst that could happen if I got up and did some amount of movement? Would I look stupid? You bet! But what would that hurt? Who would that hurt? Could I gain enough positive from the feelings to outlast the negative? Could I make good food choices and still enjoy eating and socializing? Again, what is the worst that could happen? Did I have enough in me to let myself understand that if I worked out an eating plan but needed to detour from it on occasion I was still a good person? Was I willing to admit to myself that I had to get up every day with the motivation to continue the good I had done for myself the day before? Could I forgive myself for poor choices and recharge back to the level of success I felt I had to have?

So I did it. I took a good, hard look at what I eat, when I eat and why I eat. I looked at what I like to eat. I explored what foods work better for my body and what foods counteract with my metabolism and cause it to either speed up or slow down. I didn’t do any of this by myself and I thank those who have helped me. Without going into detail, I’m thrilled with the 26% body fat loss I’ve achieved. I have a long way to go but I know I’ll get there. Of course this plan also included exercise. I don’t tend to look too foolish eating a well balanced meal, but exercising is another story. I’ve joined Curves and after 6 month tend not to appear to be the train wreck I was when I started. I do sometimes get on to a machine and completely forget what I’m supposed to do. I’ve twice worked a machine opposite of how it was intended to be worked. The trainer is so kind; she completely understands my issues and just gently mentions my errors. At Curves there are recovery pads placed between each piece of equipment and there are movements posted at each one for the participant complete. I however only jog in place on the pads. For me to be elevated on an 18 X 18 square and doing jumping jacks is a disaster waiting to happen. Even just the jogging in place has me slipping off the pad at least twice a week. But I’m there and doing it. I also walk 3-4 miles several times a week. My body wants me to run… Depending on what’s on my IPod, I want to sprint down the road as fast as I can. But I don’t. I know all too well the visual this would create so self preservation stops me before it’s too late. Now come on, we have all laughed at the ridiculous runner you see flipping and flopping down the road in the name of good health. So as I continue this journey and take giant steps to remain active I’m letting go of some of my fears. I’m embracing my inner, OK and outer klutz and remembering how far I have come. Most important to me is how far I can go.

So the laughter was good for all of us in the pool. My pool mates are a bit older than I am but are much more expert in water aerobics than I’ll ever be. I came in to the group with a great self disclosing flourish, outing my lack of coordination for all to see. I think I actually thought there would be looks of shame as I not only infiltrated a group that had so obviously been together for quite some time, I came in as a lesser participant. But as I turned myself over to their control and asked openly for their help, I found I was embraced. I was cared for and nurtured. As class began I found I had not one instructor but 9. Each of these lovely ladies aided me in some way to make me feel worthy of their time and attention. I splashed and slipped and did almost every movement wrong at first. But we laughed, all of us. We didn’t laugh at me… we laughed with me. In that short 45 minute class I learned so much more that the beginnings of deep water aerobics. I learned that it’s OK to ask for help. It’s even OK to laugh at myself. I think most importantly I learned I don’t have to be the best. I learned to accept the success of just trying and in continuing to try when I have fallen. Ah, this is of course the best lesson of all!