Irascible Ink

Despite the fact that most fitness experts will tell you that long-haul cardio is generally a waste of time, I often put in one or two hour+ sessions a week. My body seems to like repetitive motion, a lot. After an hour on the eliptical, the stationary bicycle, or the treadmill,  the spastic muscles in my legs have generally given up the ghost and walking home feels more like gliding.The last three days were pretty amazing, physically speaking—as is usually the case immediately following my botox injections. And, as per usual, today some new aches and pains have cropped up. I’ve learned that for me, this is 100% normal—my posture is shifting thanks to an additional stick in my right hip and some muscles that haven’t been working are being recruited to keep me upright. So they’re a bit pissed. This time, instead of freaking out, crying and sending PTE a panicked email, I just went to the gym. I canceled my planned lifting session and just did some steady-state cardio for an hour or so.

There’s something about repetitive, low-impact cardio that clears my head, makes me feel sane, enlightened, capable. When I want to think and think constructively, the gym is where I go. I’ve said here before that my new goal for this blog is to encourage other people–no matter what their struggles are– to become involved in, and invested in physical fitness. But I’m going to admit right now that I feel like I’ve hit a mental stumbling block. I’ve been feeling discouraged and like it might be a fruitless endeavor. . .or some sort of self-congratulatory exercise. So I went to the gym to think on it.

After about 40 minutes of sweating, I realized that before I’d even really embarked on this endeavor that I’d already made a couple of serious errors. The chief among them was convincing myself that I needed to have all the answers; that I needed to be 100% content with my life in order to be considered a success or a suitable positive example. I fell into the trap of thinking that to prove my point I needed to be some sort of superwoman—to have already conquered every frontier.  I realized that above all things, I fear being perceived as a charlatan or hypocrite—or worse yet some sort of over-eager, deluded pollyanna.  For some reason I’d become convinced that telling my story and letting people take what they can from it was not enough. I’d lost sight of my goals. I’d become more concerned with how I might be perceived than with how I might help people make changes happen it their own lives by embracing physical fitness.

So as my feet churned and my chest heaved, I willed myself to return to what I know and believe to be true. And to return to the genuine sentiment that sent me on this mission in the first place. Have I found the key to perpetual happiness? No. Am I going to guarantee that if you take up sweating as a hobby everything you ever wanted will fall at your feet? No. Is exercise the answer to all your problems? No—although I do believe that sweating helps you think about how to solve your problems.  I believe that taking responsibility for your physical well-being will help you better handle whatever challenges you have to face. Period.

I may not have tracked down the moving target of happiness and enduring serenity, but when it crosses my path you can be damn sure the chase will be on. And with all the cardio I have been doing, I stand a better chance of being able to run it down.