A couple months back I decided I want to be in the best physical condition of my life by the time I turn fifty. The big event will arrive a little less than nine months from now, so I've got to get to work.
Never mind that I also vowed to be in the best physical condition of my life by the time I was thirty, then forty. That doesn't matter anymore. This time I mean it!
With that goal in mind, Walt signed our whole family up for a gym membership this week. We went together for the first time yesterday evening. It took me about two minutes to realize this is going to be harder than I'd previously imagined.
To begin with, someone failed to tell me I needed to make an appointment with the trainer before my first visit, so she could help me come up with a routine and show me how to use the equipment. While Walt jumped right into his exercises, I ended up browsing around inspecting the various torture devices, and feeling rather overwhelmed.
Finally, I climbed onto one of the elliptical machines and chose the "fat burner" mode, entered all my vital information, and set the timer for ten minutes.
Now, I know I'm not a supermodel. Nor do I aspire to enter any body building contests in the near (or distant) future, but I don't think I'm in particularly terrible shape for a woman my age either. For that reason, I was shocked at how quickly I felt done with the workout. After only a few steps on the machine, my heart rate began to rise dramatically.
That was a little scary. I'll admit I was concerned about the possibility of passing out and embarrassing myself in front of the much younger, healthier people who seemed to be treading along effortlessly all around me, more so than I was worried about the possible implications of my speeding pulse.
To make matters worse, my fifteen year old son who was on the treadmill next to me kept reading the information from my machine's digital display out loud for everyone to hear.
"MOM! You're not doing it fast enough! It keeps pausing! You've got to keep walking!"
I didn't want to tell him I was intentionally allowing the thing to pause every few seconds in an effort to save my life.
I glanced at the timer and was happy to see it at four minutes, forty seconds. Whew! I was over half way finished.
My happy little bubble busted almost instantly when I noticed the timer was going up, not down. I didn't have four minutes left ... four minutes was how long I'd been on the stupid thing!
Determined to stay the course yet not be carried out of the gym on a stretcher, I kept plodding along until I reached the ten minute mark.
All's well that ends well, I suppose. I did survive, after all.
After re-evaluating the situation I'm asking myself if it's really necessary that I be in the best physical condition of my life by age fifty? Maybe not. At least for now, I'm going to re-write my script to read I want to be able to last ten minutes on the elliptical machine without giving myself a heart attack.
From here on, I'll take it one step at a time. I may not reach "perfection" over the course of the next nine months, but I will celebrate my fiftieth birthday knowing I did the best I could.
I'm also promising myself that, if by my fifty-first birthday, my hard work has not rewarded me with a firm, healthy body, I'm treating myself to some liposuction!
Becky Taylor
http://www.boldnewday.com
11/19/09
2 comments:
Hey Becky, just discovered your blog and this post hit me. I turned 50 this last year and was on the same goal as you. I actually was doing very well... for awhile. Now, as I am closing in on 51 I've been really angry at myself for letting myself go. I'm actually back to the exact same weight today that I was 18 months ago. I'm not that overweight, so I often justify to myself that "at least I'm not as bad as..." But the truth is, I don't feel good. I know that to start the exercise again is going to be painful and slow. As a man, the ego finds it hard to swallow that I cannot lift the weight that I did 10 years ago, and I get discouraged and want to quit.
Anyway, reading this blog gave me a good kick in the rear that I needed. Thanks!
Thanks for your comment, Darrell. I'm glad my post inspired you. Don't be too hard on yourself. They definitely don't make fifty year olds like they use to. I think fifty year old people today are in MUCH better shape than fifty year old people were a couple decades ago. We are the generation that is going to live FOREVER! lol
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