Exercising isn't part of my life
I love my psychiatrist. I can tell that she keeps an eye on all aspects of my life. To keep the mind healthy, it’s important to do the same for the body. As we were about to end one of our sessions, she looked me in the eye and said, “Are you exercising?” Her voice was kind but confident, which gave it weight.
A bit more context. I’ve come a long way on her list of things to check: symptoms, medications, sleep, diet, stress, motivation, stability, relationships, and happiness. But there is one thing I can’t seem to check off: exercising.
“I still walk.” Clearly, that’s not what she was suggesting, and I knew it. I added, “I’ll think of something. It’s on my list.” I flashed the best smile I could. She had been asking me this question for a few sessions now.
I was never a sporty person. Quite the opposite, I heard I was not a graceful baby, i.e., a kinder way of saying I was pretty clumsy. My eye and hand coordination was never heavily tested since I avoided driving a car or riding a bike (yes, that experiment has ended, and a good friend is taking my bike off my hands!). My work involves sitting in front of a computer all day typing. For fun, I read and write. You see.
Put me in the gym, and it’s a problem. I feel inadequate.
One of my best friends introduced me to the gym in my twenties. I felt out of place even when she was with me. I didn’t last in the gym; I wasn’t good at anything, and nothing stuck with me. I stopped going. Later, I joked that the gym was my charity contribution to society; I paid for the membership but didn’t use the gym at all.
A few years later, right before I turned thirty, I tried going to the gym again. At this time, I was newly single and hyperfocused on self-improvement. This time, I learned to run. I even got a heart rate monitor. This might have been the most sporty period in my life. That fall, at my peak condition, I ran outside happily around the loop between Long Fellow Bridge and the Harvard Bridge. Long story short, I got sick with schizophrenia, the running stopped, and I was never able to get back into it.
Right around turning forty, I took a mini-retirement and practiced yoga daily for about six months. My neck and shoulders relaxed. I felt better. When I got back to work, the practice stopped. Like most of our lives, work takes up a lot of time and energy.
I’m not kidding when I say my exercise plan happens in ten-year increments. That seems to be how long I put exercising aside and how much activation energy I need to find something new that would stick. Now that I’m 50, I am again pondering what I want to do about exercising.
My best friend recommended Outlive: The Science and Art of Longevity by Peter Attia, MD, when she heard me talking about exercising. According to Attia, exercising is the number one thing we can do to improve our health. (He also said that our goal for life should be to maximize health span and not just life span, to delay illness. This is a topic for another day.)
In a popular TED talk, Atul Gawande shared the importance of having a coach to get better at doing something. He compared surgeons with people who excel at sports. He suggested that surgeons need to have coaches in the operating rooms.
I decided it was time to prioritize strength training in my life and get a trainer.
On the first day, I met D, I was clear. I’m almost 50. I’m not looking to be sporty. I don’t want to be bulky. I want to gain strength, mobility, balance, and flexibility. I want to be healthy.
Having D is a game-changer. I close my work laptop and show up at the gym when it’s time. She is helping me to get stronger. I’m learning to work out (strength training) and use different equipment. She said core instead of stomach, glut, not butt. She keeps me interested. I’m pushed to do more each time while feeling good, oriented, and safe.
D has been asking me, “What about cardio?”
I’m slow when it comes to forming consistent exercise routines and habits. But I would feel amazing if I could run again. (And practice yoga.) Let me add this to my mental list. (My Encore plan will free up a lot more time for me. <grin>)
Health is one of the most important things in life. I want to and have been considering it more as part of aging.
Let’s all be healthier together.
Nice going