ex·er·cise
ˈeksərˌsīz/
noun
1. activity requiring physical effort, carried out especially to sustain or improve health and fitness.
2.the use or application of a faculty, right, or process.
verb
1.use or apply (a faculty, right, or process).
2. engage in physical activity to sustain or improve health and fitness; take exercise.
A four letter word.
Okay, okay; I know it actually has 8 letters...but isn't that really just two, four letter words combined...meaning doubly bad word??!
Often the word "exercise" or any of it's synonyms awaken feelings of dread and pain in the souls of those who have avoided, or neglected applying the behavior described by such words. To others such words evoke feelings of excitement and anticipation. For the majority of my life I have been the latter individual. The last year or so, however, I've become the former...
I struggle with depression. And anxiety. Like, bad depression. And anxiety. The past two years I have specifically been working to learn how to live better with these friends of mine. They have been my constant companions since early adolescence, if not younger. Despite their constancy, I didn't realize that I had these fellas tagging along after me all this time; I just thought that I was who I was; I just thought that I was overly dramatic, overly emotional, hard to be around sometimes, and a failure. Good times. Some times. Some really bad times. Some times. But, a couple years ago I discovered my cohorts. And we've been learning how to live with each other since. Why I didn't realize my struggle was, in large part, because I coped with these companions through exercise. Sounds like a good coping mechanism, right? Wrong. Sort of.
Exercise. Diet.
An addiction.
For fourteen years I over-exercised and under ate. Outsiders looked at me and thought I was living a healthy, well rounded life. Deep down I knew there was something wrong with this picture. "Health is the greatest possession. Contentment is the greatest treasure. Confidence is the greatest friend" (Lao Tzu). True health begets both contentment and confidence. Despite "exercise and diet" I wasn't healthy. I was an addict. I quite literally beat myself up through exercise. It was my way of self-hurting. Obtaining help, I stopped hurting myself this way, and have moved on to be a much healthier individual (yay!). But my muscles have definitely atrophied (boo!). I've been saying and intending and trying and failing to start up a work out regimen again for nearly eight months.
Then I got engaged (yay!). And then remembered that I'm out of shape (boo!).
So, it was time: Time to get serious. Time to buckle down. Time to get motivated. Time to get myself back in order. Time to start EXERCISING. For real. Not this piece meal, nay-sayer, hit and miss, sloppy excuse for work outs I had been allowing myself to get away with for a year and half. For REAL, for real exercise. It was time to listen to Dr Seuss, "You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where you go..." (emphasis added).
So this weekend...I...the Musing Mustard...began a workout program. P90X to be precise. And I'm two workouts in. And I hurt. Bad. I can't lift my arms all the way above my head. I thought my heart was going to literally explode at one or two points. But I did it! Twice! I even got up this morning at 5:30 (okay; so I hit snooze once and got up at 5:40...), and did my plyometrics work out. And despite the cold, dark morning, the aching pain in my stiff muscles, and the snores of roommates, I did it. I feel alive! I had forgotten how much I love those morning workouts. I had forgotten how my body craved that time to wake up, pump endorphines through my system, get the blood flowing, and kick-start my day.
I didn't have road rage driving to work. I repeat, I did not have road rage driving to work!
Instead, I sang along to my music. I joyed in the splashes of sunlight that dappled the mountain sides as the rays peaked through the clouds. I saw the rain-enriched fall colors of the changing leaves on the trees. I laughed on the phone with a customer who called at 8:30 in the morning.
While these are things that are regularly part of my life, they don't often come together all in one morning. But I had forgotten how much more regularly they do come together when I start my day with a good workout. I stumbled on a quote this morning that sums this up: "When health is absent, wisdom cannot reveal itself, art cannot manifest, strength cannot fight, wealth becomes useless, and intelligence cannot be applied" (Herphilus). I am hoping that I can learn to exercise in a more balanced way this time around; for I believe that being physically healthy will enable my abilities to be more emotionally and intellectually healthy.
And I'm excited!!
I used to love exercise. Then I grew to hate it. It became a symbol of my demons. But, "what is joy without sorrow? What is success without failure? What is a win without a loss? What is health without illness? You have to experience each if you are to appreciate the other. There is always going to be suffering. It's how you look at your suffering, how you deal with it, that will define you" (Mark Twain). And is that not what this life is about? Reconciling ourselves? Becoming whole. Being at-one, with ourselves and with God? I know, I know God cares about our well being. Including our physical health. And I know that my demons can become my strengths. So come on, Depression and Anxiety, I need some spotters in my weightlifting, and we all know you're coming with me; make yourselves useful!
Exercise. An 8 letter word. Because it's really not a bad thing.
