That may sound strange, but I believe it's the only way I'll ever get in shape. I used to be an athlete. I was a cheer-leading captain and later, a damn good martial artist. What the hell happened right? Life. I got busy. When my son was very little I went to work. As I cycled through jobs (many in the beginning were temp), I got increasingly busier. My time for lengthy workouts diminished. And eventually so did my desire for them. I stopped craving the rush of a good workout. It was as if my body had forgotten the feeling.
Many people won't understand what I'm talking about when I mention that rush and how awesome it can be. Let me put it into perspective. The best description I've ever read, the one that came closest to describing a workout rush, wasn't even talking about working out. It was in a book about BDSM. It's a complete rush of exhaustion and elation mixed together. You're completely spent both emotionally and physically. And no, I'm not talking about orgasm. This is different. Some may know it as "runner's high" as well. It's the same concept.
I've made a lot of changes in the past year and a half. This began the day I got my little dog Roscoe. That little face and those big ears helped to break me out of a depression I couldn't beat on my own. But thanks to Roscoe, I kicked its ass and I haven't looked back. I am happier than I've ever been. My book sales are up. I'm spending more time with my family. Plus I've lost and kept off 25 pounds. Now, it's time to take it up a notch.
I am what many would consider a healthy weight. My reasons for not being satisfied are not entirely vain. My mother has type 2 diabetes. So does one of my grandmothers. My step-grandpa died from complications caused by diabetes. I've seen what it can do. For goodness sake, it has the word DIE in it! (At least when you say it out loud it does.)
I am healthy. My heart is strong. My sugar is low. My blood pressure is normal. I intend to keep it that way.
Recently I noticed something about myself. Deep down I already knew this, but never paid attention. I always put myself last. I'm not talking about my work. I'm talking about me. Writing takes precedence over almost everything else in my life. I'm always working on something new. I'm either editing a title whose contract expired for re-release, working on cover art, or writing something totally new. I'm constantly looking for inexpensive ways to promote my books, to help spread the word. Work. That's all I ever do.
I wake up every day with the intention of working out, but it just doesn't happen. Everything else comes first.
Therefore I have concluded that I cannot workout in my house. I have to remove the distractions of email and text and the temptation to go to my computer when I take a water break.
I'm making an appointment with myself to get up and run each morning. Why am I doing this? Because I keep my appointments. It's going to take more than good intentions to get me in the shape I want to be. I'm deliberately setting this appointment at I time I find most uncomfortable. Early in the morning. Those are the appointments I always dread the most. Yet, I enjoy getting them over with.
This is one appointment I do not intend to break. I'm going to pretend that someone is depending on me to show up and skipping is not an option. In a way, they are. Me, thirty years from now. Hell, even five years from now. And if I can't depend on myself, then who can I depend on?
My running shoes are in the dryer right now. As I listen to them tumble, I'm starting to get excited. My goal is 5 miles a day. At this point I'm not worried about speed. I just want to make those miles even if I have to crawl.
And every day I possibly can ... I'm dragging my mother with me.