Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – November 29, 2004
- At November 29, 2014
- By Rosemary Wright
- In My Column
- 0
Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – November 29, 2004
Yet Another Progress Report
Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – November 29, 2004 – During the first week of November I was a human dynamo. I spent four days (count ’em – 4) with Howard and two days stretching and toning (enthusiastically) with Pilates. There was no stopping me. The next week was equally successful.
Miles disappeared under my Nike clad feet as Howard and I tripped the light fantastic in my exercise room. I had it now – I was a woman of energy and exercise – on her way to a gloriously revitalized body, with all the perks that accompany that state of physical excellence. What happened next was predictable. Crash and burn. Not literally of course. Howard is still next door, his control panel emitting the odd feeble red beep. My Nike runners await my return. My Pilates tapes are at the ready and my work-out duds are freshly laundered. So where am I?
Well, let’s see. I’m sitting in my office – keyboard humming – good intentions nowhere to be found – attitude just a bit off plumb. This is bigger than I am. I’m aware of the benefits of exercise. I know, because I’ve been really physically fit in the past – an uber babe. I know how strong, powerful, energetic, satisfied and smug I feel when I’m in good shape – not to mention all the benefits to my health and well-being. My cells are happier, my neurons are firing more efficiently, my muscles are strong, my skin is fresh. I sleep sounder and if I was having sex – it would be significantly more satisfying. “Menopause” by any other name is a down right bitch.
I’m trying to find my way around, and ideally out of, this dilemma. This year started with such good intentions. I really believed my own hype. Right up to and including “Tiger Living”, I thought I could whip this blasted inertia. If I don’t get exercise out of the way in the morning I appear to be doomed. Too late at night and I can’t sleep, so on top of the hot flashes and night sweats and chills – I feel as if I’ve just downed a pot of coffee. Morning comes and I can hardy lift my head from the pillow. I’m not sure any more if this is a question of discipline, choice, apathy, genuine lack of vital energy, attitude or dreadful acceptance of my middle-aged physique. I could sleep for a year, maybe longer. That sounds a lot like death doesn’t it? This doesn’t particularly please me. Woe!
I’m not suffering from a plethora of harmful free radicals, painful lip fungus, the heartbreak of psoriasis, broken bones or pulled ligaments. I’m healthy and relatively strong. Is the evil-attitude fairy totally scuppering my physical well-being? It appears to be the case. Now throw in a slow business fall season, a touch of worry and a load of the blahs and you don’t come up with a string quartette. What you get instead is a “feeling-sorry-for-herself babe with the pre-holiday fat blues”. There has to be a way around this lethargy.
Of course the positive way to look at the month of November is to say, “Wow – you go woman – on eleven days out of the month, you got off your duff and did a work out. Aren’t you just great? In fact, you’re the best! Oh no, that would be too damn easy for me. Just take a shot at the old self-esteem and knock it down a notch or two. I’ve deduced that women are their own worst enemies. We (I) whine and groan and refuse to “do”. I’m reminded again of the book – “He’s Just Not That In To You”.
Well, if truth be known – “I’m Just Not That In To Me” and that has to change. Can I make it happen with my health? The answer is “yes”. When I’m ready to do something about my body, I will. It’s much more dramatic to think that all the stars have to be in alignment and Wiarton Willie (having just completed an exhaustive course in Fung Shei) has to be asleep with his head pointing north, before I can get my ass in gear and stay with exercise. Progress is a relative term, but you haven’t heard the last from me on this topic. I will not be denied. Big talker!
Update 2014 – My navel and my breasts have become very close friends. For years they never saw each other – now they are thick as thieves. But big picture – and fitness aside – I am a happier woman. I still have vague memories of my uber-babe days but there are so many things that are more important in my life now!
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