Exercise

I have to confess: I feel great this morning. My thigh muscles will barely lift me from my chair, but I feel great.

I kept promises to myself. Then I exceeded those promises--for me. And I even still took care of my family. I didn't have to sacrifice one for the other, I just had to be willing to try.

Let me explain:
On a normal evening, the kids play video games, maybe come out to the living room to converse and cuddle, and I watch TV, lamenting how tired I am.

But I've been serious about this project, and part of this project is about health and fitness. So I decided that it was OK to spend $12.00 on myself to get the Kindle edition of  Choose More, Lose More for Life by Chris Powell. You know, the guy on "Extreme Weight Loss".

And I'm super-glad that I did.

Why? Not just for the carb-cycling--although that was my original motivation--but for the transformation aspects of the book. The psychology of it.  The whole idea that broken promises to yourself are what bring you down.

Yes, terrible things have happened in my life. Amazingly wonderful things have happened, too. And while I was always a chunky kid, I also always could walk 10 miles without a problem, climb trees all day long, chase horses, handle a bow, and do some excellent knife-work. I was amazing on a bike. I felt powerful and in control in my environment--outside, away from people.

It was when I no longer had the luxury of spending every day outdoors that the weight piled on. I pretended to still be in control of my environment--but I wasn't. I was lying to myself and breaking promises to myself, then feeling more and more trapped by every promise that broke and left me powerless and afraid.

And now I'm an adult, and still breaking promises to myself. I kept telling myself I'd "get a  handle on ____," or "conquer ___". But I have no handles and I'm no conquistador.  Well, the old me had no handles and was no conquistador.

Now, it's a different story.

I got the book three days ago. I've slowly walked into the program, not because I made myself, but because I wanted to. I promised myself these things: I would look in the mirror and tell myself "I am worth it"; that I would keep my promises basic, reasonable, and within my power; and that I would eat a piece of fruit every day.

And that's it. But because I've kept my promises for three days, I felt good. I felt open to talk to myself (in my head) again. And I found out that I eat because I'm afraid I'm not good enough. And I'm afraid I'm not good enough because I'm not strong. And I must not be strong because I can't protect myself. And I can't protect myself because I eat too much and I'm not strong. And someone who can't protect themselves is a burden on their community/family, so I'm not good enough. And someone who can't keep her word isn't any good, either. (I grew up in CO--personal and communal security is a big deal out here--God n' Guns).

But keeping my word to myself meant that I was a good person, or at least a worthwhile person. Telling myself that I'm a worthwhile person meant the inner me could  come out and play, and she startled me: She told me to get off my duff and get strong.

Powell's book told me to only promise myself 5 min of cardio. So I said, "OK, I'll do the warm-up and the stretch, and then just five minutes of the Fit Test (Insanity)." And I did the whole thing. Let me say that again:

I did the whole thing.

Then I found the numbers from when my husband and I did the Fit Test in Buffalo, and I saw I had demolished my previous numbers. Doubled and tripled them. Not only am I 17 pounds lighter than I was then, but I am twice as strong. I actually demolished about half of my husband's numbers, and he's the fittest person I know.

Ok, that was amazing, right?

But guess what happened after that? I asked the kids if they wanted to go swimming. And they did. And we had a blast. I've been trying to lure them into the pool, and then we do "fun" things like racing across the length of the pool, or run through the shallow end as a race, or "tow" one another through the water. It's sneaky exercise. And we did all of those things. Plus, I did some laps. And I got in the hot tub to ease my muscles, because at this point, they were fatiguing pretty badly. I love it when my muscles fatigue. It means I really worked them. I loved in High School when I lifted weights, too.

And what happened after that?

I did the dishes.

What!? Yes. I did them. All of them. And then I was sleepy so I went to bed.

And in the morning I did a 9-Minute Mission, even though I hadn't promised myself I would. And I still made my honey his coffee. And I still got dressed. And I planned out my food for the day.

I feel great. I feel Eudaimonia right now: I am living right. I made a wise investment in myself, and it's paying dividends. I'm doing right by my family while I am making decisions for myself.

All because of three promises, which were kept. I actually wanted to help myself, to choose myself, once I had kept a promise to myself.

I choose me; I choose a good life.