Day 1: 6/7/16
Tuesday, June 07, 2016
Day 1 of what? Don't know. I've been on a bit of a journey lately, lost about 20 lbs doing weight watchers and very much liking the program, trying my best to get to the gym as often as possible. I feel like I'm making progress, and truth be told, this isn't really Day 1 of anything. Except I always feel like I need to be in the midst of some kind of challenge, some kind of, for lack of a better word, "program." Well, I am in the middle of a program, the WW program, any yet, that doesn't seem like enough, even though I have been scrupulously logging my meals and exercise...
Exercise. If the way I start any day off from work is any indication, I think it is safe to say I do love to go to the gym. But I only seem to love it first thing in the morning, or on days that I have time. I know, I know, if I wanted it badly enough, I'd make time. Maybe. Or maybe I just really don't have time. I work full time in a fairly responsible job. I am the primary schlepper of my 14 year old son, to and from school and school-related activities, to and from baseball and hockey practices and games, to and from whatever doctor/dentist appointments he might have, to and from hanging out with friends, to and from, well, just about anything you can think of that a 14-year old boy might do. I am the logical person to do the schlepping, I work closer to our home than my husband and I do have flexibility at work to move around my lunch schedule, or the time to take off if needed.
I also, as most moms and wives do, take care of my house, including cleaning, doing laundry, food shopping and cooking. And I help, not as much as I'd like to but as much as I can, my sister take care of our elderly mother. We also have a big family, and loads going on all the time.
I am the kind of person who needs to get most of her housework done during the weekend, because honestly, by the end of the day when I get home, I am beat. It is all I can do most of the time to get dinner ready and on the table. On the rare days when there isn't some extra-curricular activity to attend to, I can honestly say I am in bed by 8-8:30 pm.
Many years ago, I was a morning exerciser. I could get up at 5:15ish and get my workout in at 5:30 (Round 1), and then do all the other things that have to be done in the morning: make lunches, straighten the kitchen, make the bed, get myself ready for work, get the kid to school and myself to work (Round 2), where I would perform Round 3, running out at lunch to pick up my son and take him home or to my mom's (Round 4) and then get home and get dinner ready (Round 5), and maybe help the kiddo with some homework (Round 6), alternate with hubby to take the boy to any evening activities he might have do (Round 6.5?), and only then get myself to the couch, or, more often the bed (the glorious Round 7!)..
So when I was younger, the 5:30 exercise period worked. Now, not so much. There is just no room for that early a morning in my day. So I try to tell myself I will attempt to get to the gym a couple of afternoons a week, after work. Not likely.
What I have begun to do is to stop beating myself up over this. I am losing weight, though not nearly as efficiently as I would if I did exercise, without it. I sneak in what I can when I can, and though I often say to myself, "I wish I could do this more often," I am more forgiving of myself when I can't. I know the day will come when I no longer have to attend quite so much to the needs of my son, and will likely have more time, and a bit more energy, to devote to getting to the gym. I look forward to that day and dread it at the same time, because though the result will be more "me" time, I no doubt will miss the hockey and baseball games, the families who have become my social circle, the time spent with him.
As so often happens, I began writing this blog without understanding why I had the urge to write, and as I write the stream of consciousness becomes more apparent to me. I just had that eureka moment, as I realize I am somewhat anticipating the end of an era as we approach the end of my son's grammar/middle school years. Next year brings high school, the turning of the page to the Next. Big. Adventure. With anticipation and a wee bit of dread, I understand we are on the precipice of something big: the days when I am no longer needed quite so much, the days when I don't know with precision exactly where he is, or when he will be home. I don't know if I am ready for this.
But if my choice is to sit tearfully by and mourn the passage of time, or try to begin my own Next. Big. Adventure, I hope I can take my own advice and do the latter. We will all be better for it. Day 1, fairly well spent.