As a person who hated exercise and looked at people with amazement when they talked about endorphins, I am shocked to find I need exercise. It is as vital now to my life as water and breathing.
This from the gal who hide under a bridge during cross country, waited for the runners on their return and then joined the crowd! Yes, I hated it that much.
Going to the gym proved to be torturous for me as I came back feeling I had failed as I could never get a routine and also the old comparison stuff kicked in. Choosing an outfit became challenging and the whole thing became a big association with my bad body and being overweight.
When my knees weakened I stopped doing anything except the occasional walk. A knee operation seemed inevitable.
Exercise had to come in to play if I wanted to help these joints. The only thing I loved to do was walk. Getting a routine proved hard as I don’t like to walk on my own and finding a schedule with someone proved hard and inconsistent. Who, I wondered, would walk ever day with me and at my pace? Monty, my dog, came in to my life as a walking companion and trainer.
My intention became consistency not intensity. The old me always dived in with a plan to go to the gym for an hour a day 3 times a week. By week 3 my desire not to go turned in self flagellation, and it would be months before I attempted any exercise.
With a commitment of 5 minutes a day, it shifted. I could walk around my house, in my yard. But hey, that dog needed me for a walk, I was his helper.
When working in a hospital so many patients lamented about their loss of mobility, something we take for granted.
What if movement was the goal? What if instead of seeing it as a chore, I valued the ability to climb stairs, to walk with my dog, just to be in motion. I thought of my patients who loved to move and could not do it anymore, I walked for them. With gratitude and appreciation for my ability to move it became a blessing.
A new dialogue will often help us change our mindset. Do you have one you want to shift?
Thanks for reading,
Christina