Tag Archives: exercise

getting in shape, journaling, Life, lifecoaching, Me, Native American Women, Writing

Jump rope

It’s been quite awhile since I sat down to write anything.  I have been missing the easy thought flow of just getting things off my chest.  I have missed many opportunities in the past few months because I was just so often, too tired.

I am tired still, but have determined to start writing again, even just a few words to let out some of the angst built up inside….out.

I have been reading…that’s a good thing.  Even if I haven’t written things down, I am still filling my head with all sorts of stuff, sci-fi fantasy, murder mystery, psychology…you know, just the basics.

Then I picked up a “program”.  I still struggle with getting older, fatter, slower.  I still dread going to see my doctor since after the age of 50 it seems that every time I go, there is something else wrong with me.  I cannot tell you how much that pisses me off….just when you really start to figure things out, your whole body starts falling apart.

What to do, what to do?  I started using essential oils.  My house now officially smells of way too much hippy, but I feel better.  I take some great supplements and my mind is sharper, my heart stronger, my immune system stronger.  These are good things.  Not a bad start.  I have been using the oils for a year now, the supplements for about six months.

Today I added more supplemental stuff.  I have to say “stuff” because I cannot find the proper place to put a really thick, very dark green chocolaty coconut flavored…drink?  It’s very weird.  Almost yucky but kind of yummy kind of drink.  I have been sipping on it for any hour now.  I just need to bite the bullet and get it all down so I can get to bed.  New things tend to take me a minute to process.

My biggest procrastination for the past two months has been exercise.  I have such good intentions….

I have even gone to far as to use some bullet journaling techniques to put a little calendar in my “my physical me” journal to track my chosen exercise program.  It’s been in there for two months and so far, I haven’t started filling it out.  April and May…blank.

Honestly, I was scared.  Sometimes my eyes are bigger than my stomach and my minds’ eye holds a picture of a thing that is no longer possible.  I was scared of what would really happen if I went ahead and started my program.  Being 55 is hard work.

Picture this: a 20 year old active duty Airman, holding on to 125lbs for over 5 years, feeling really good about everything, heading out to the gym and working out for an hour or so with no breaks and actually walking out like “this is how the world is supposed to work”.  Yes, that was me, 35 years ago.  My heroes were people like Muhammed Ali, Joe Frazier, Sugar Ray.  Boxing was as much an art to me as a sport.  I loved watching those guys’ workouts as much as I loved watching them in the ring.

I did not use the heavy bag or the speed bag…I wasn’t looking for muscle mass.  But I could jump some rope.  I used to jump for 20 minutes during each workout, Ali style, fast, fast, fast.  I would jump in front of the mirrors to make sure my style was perfect.  Did I mention that I weighed 125lbs?  I also hated looking like a rookie.

I have always said that the outcome was nothing to dwell on….but you gotta look good while your doing it…whatever “it” is.  So I jumped rope and I looked good doing it.

This is what my calendar is for…my goal, to jump 1000 times a day.  But, there is that “minds eye” thing….holy cow……

The book I am reading suggests jumping 7 minutes, twice a day.  This seems perfectly reasonable to me.  Still, it took another 3 days for me to put my shoes on and pull my rope off the peg it had been hanging on for a long, long time.

I am thinking that in reality, I might be able to jump a couple of hundred times without passing out.  I HOPE I can jump at least a couple of hundred times without passing out.  I asked my husband to come outside with me and to bring a watch.  He looks at me all funny and says “why?”.  I explain that I am going to start jumping again and I need him out there for support and to pick me up when I pass out.  I am being real with myself by now.

Seven minutes…I start thinking about all of those parables about time.  Is 5 minutes long?  no..hold this 50 pound weight straight out with one arm for 5 minutes.  Is 2 minutes long?  no….hold your breathe for 2 minutes…you know, those parables about time.  I am not stupid.  I know that I will not make it to 7 minutes on day one but I had to start.

OMG….I could not jump for 30 seconds in a row…by one minute, we were both laughing at my efforts, two minutes and I struggled to breath while trying to turn a rope that just would not work correctly.  Finally at 3 and a half minutes, my husband asked if I was done for the day.  YES!  I had to put on the sports rub after I finally caught my breath again.

I knew that I was out of shape but what never entered my mind was my body’s complete lack of cooperation.  How can a person forget how to jump with both feet at the same time?  My legs felt like lead.   I could not have alternated my feet if I wanted too, I tried, my legs just laughed at me too.

I jumped again this morning.  I still only jumped 3.5 minutes…..but I jumped.  I was counting, and several times jumped 25 times or more before messing up.  I jumped again this evening.  I jumped most of 4 minutes.  This time I really did almost pass out and only my Huskie was watching, she doesn’t even care and would have just let me lay on the patio until I regained consciousness.

Tomorrow morning will be my test.  I have to get up and leave for work earlier, my knees are feeling the stress.  Yes, I used more sport rub tonight.  I am supposed to drink the green sludge before I jump….wow.

First, I master the seven minute workout, then I get this drink down in less than and hour, and finally, I add just enough jumps to meet my goal of 1000 per day…like I said, 55 is hard work.

 

 

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Contemplation, Me, Native American Women

My Great Golfing Adventure…Not!

Overall I have to say that I am happy with me. I have done things that I wanted to do. I have tried things that scared me and survived to tell the tales of my adventures. There are things that I would still like to try and lessons yet to be learned. I have declined some adventures because some lessons can be learned from watching others. Whether they fail or succeed I can learn just fine from here, thank you very much.

But there is one adventure I have yet to take and somebody is going to have to explain the draw to me. I mean, I feel it, I really do. There is something peaceful in the watching and I do like that but there is something else and I cannot explain it, yet. I do feel, however, that this is an adventure that I cannot take alone. I can see that it is possible to walk those links alone but you never see a lone person whacking away at that little ball. At least I never see a lone person whacking away at a little ball.

There are men and women who participate, there are all colors of people who love this game, age does not seem to be an issue so I am confident that I would not be out of place. But when? Who? Where? I am getting impatient waiting on someone to take me golfing. I have my own clubs thanks to a dear friend who decided that his career of walking the greens was over. He said, “we are about the same height so these will work for you just fine”. He was right, the clubs fit me perfectly. My golf bag is not fancy, not pink, not new, but it is functional. My son-in-law, excited that I wanted to learn bought me all kinds of tees and yes, pink balls. I have a glove that fits my hand. I even have a girlfriend who has volunteered to drive the cart around, as she has no desire to actually golf she just wants to be part of the adventure.

Three summers have come and gone and still those clubs sit in my closet. I am getting discouraged. Am I wrong? Should I go alone? Is it socially acceptable for a lone person who has no clue to show up at some community course and “just do it”? I’m not feeling that. I think I am supposed to be part of a group, at the very least, of a twosome.

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getting in shape, Life, Me, Native American Women

Not very Brave

I had hoped that by this day I would be 1) a non-smoker and 2) could swim a mile without stopping. Here is where I am-can’t claim either. Is that sad?

I was talking to a friend and we were discussing her life and her life choices. She said “I wish I was strong enough, maybe someday I will be that strong”. I told her then that she was strong enough, she proved that everyday. She was a divorced mother of two, raising her babies without any help at all from her ex. That she had strength and she exhibited plenty of it, everyday. I said “what you need is to be brave”…brave enough to tell him (her ex) NO when she needed to. Like when he showed up on her doorstep unannounced and started telling her how everything was going to be. She was very happy with me for telling her she was strong and decided that being brave was something she could definitely work on.

This is, I have decided, where I am as well. The first of the year came around and for a week prior I was thinking about how I was not going to buy cigs anymore. Then the actual 1st came up and I did not stop smoking. I know that this is so bad for me. I know that if I could expand my lungs a bit further I could accomplish a bit more, physically. I have the strength required for the commitment, I lack the bravery required to actually stop. What will I do when I think I need to smoke? What will I do with my hands? How much more will I eat when I can no longer hold that cigarette between my fingers? These are not hard questions…just a little scary when I get to the nitty-gritty of actually getting things done.

I also had decided that since I ended the year able to swim 1/2 mile without stopping that if I kept at it, by the time my birthday came around (end of January) I should be able to swim an entire mile (70 lengths of the pool) without stopping. I had my schedule all mapped out on the calendar. I would swim every Monday, Wednesday and Friday and keep adding a few laps each week and…ta-da…by the end of the month….goal accomplished. But work has been constant and I am far enough behind that it is just too easy to use it as an excuse to not leave my house to head to the pool. Then I actually made it to the pool one day this week, mistimed “open lap” by 30 minutes and did not bring any regular workout clothing with me. I decided just to take a shower, head upstairs and hang upside down on the inversion table for a few minutes. I totally counted it as a full workout seeing how I took my gym bag to the gym and changed clothes during that time. Needless to say, I have not increased the number of laps I can swim.

I have to admit, I am disappointed in myself. I have managed to almost get caught up with my paperwork for my job but not to get my personal goals one step closer to ideal. I will be 52 at the end of January. I thought about this stuff all day today. It is almost midnight (EST) and I am just finishing up my work for the day. At some point I will have to be brave enough to make me my number one priority.

This is something that I can actually work on….

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getting in shape, Life, Me

Got It!…Muscle Confusion

OK, so now I get it.  I listened to the workout guru try to explain how beneficial muscle confusion is to my body.  I wonder every now and then if it really works.  I wonder also if runners use this technique to help in their own training. 

Last week I started (or restarted) my own training to be a runner (once again).  I started the week walking about 4.5 miles in two days and then incorporated some running-finishing out the week with a total of 9 miles under my belt.  My muscles….totally confused.  At first there was much yelling and screaming and out right refusing to move then by day four all my muscles were beginning to get with the program.  I had even started developing a real “like” of getting out there and walking.  A “like” of how the gravel felt as it crunched under my foot each time I advanced as I ran.  My body was beginning to remember how it felt to move fluidly.

Then Friday came and I didn’t even get home from my busy day until dark.  I do not run in the forest after dark (monsters) so I decided that it was a good day to rest.  I woke up Saturday morning still feeling “OK”.  I don’t know about you but summer weekends for me are action packed and it was Sunday night and I was still not home from busyness. 

My muscles were confused again.

It is now Monday night.  I have sent several reports to the “powers-that-be” and I have eaten my dinner and even had some dessert but it is dark again.  I am starting to feel a little guilty about not running.  I have read from expert runners that this feeling of guilt is quite normal and I actually feel good about that.

Tomorrow I do not have to be on the road so I will start again.  Tomorrow I have so much work to do but I will start again.  Tomorrow my muscles will again be confused about what the hell I am expecting them to do.  I am hoping that this will not become the normal pattern, four days of working out and then four days of not working out.  No matter how confused, I think my muscles will just stay in revolt and this is not my goal.  It is hard enough to think about trying to keep my feet moving for thirteen miles, hard enough to keep that mental picture of me succeeding getting up those killer hills, hard enough to fight those nicotine cravings without fighting my muscles who don’t like being quite so confused each week.

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getting in shape, Me, Native American Women

If I Could Just Get Off the Couch

Running around town, running water to do the dishes, running my mouth…so much to do  but not accomplishing the goal that I set for myself two years ago.  I have what I consider a typical Native American woman’s body and according to my doctor puts me in the group of women who are at higher risk for heart problems.  I had wanted to be in good shape by now.  But like so many women I have let life take me by the nap of the neck and shake me up.  I am not in good shape.

My blog is my gift to myself.  My own way of inspiring me.  I like to write, I like to create, I like to see projects come together but somehow the “me” project has yet to get off the ground.

I would like to be able to run a half marathon.  I have no desire to enter a race or get a tee-shirt.  I have no running partner and no fancy diary to keep track of my miles.  I haven’t even quit smoking yet.  I do love a challenge.

This will not be a runner’s diary.  I would be too bored just writing about running or rather writing about trying to run.  Here is a good place to help me stay motivated. I have a new grandbaby on the way.  I sit and listen to my contemporaries complain about not having the energy to keep up with a toddler, I don’t want to be another one of those grannies.  Well, truth be told, I am….but I don’t want to continue to be.  Making blankets and afghans should not wear me out.

Today is my day to start writing, tomorrow is my day to sit in the office for 10 hours or so…somewhere in there is the time to walk a mile or two.  It’s a start.

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