Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

health & fitness

How I'm celebrating my 37th birthday

I turn 37 today, which is by no means monumental. It’s not like 30 (been there, done that) or 40 (it’ll be here before I know it) or even 35. It’s just a random number in the middle of a decade, but every year that pushes me closer to a new decade is becoming significant. Don’t ask me why because I really don’t know.

Already, this year is changing me for the good as I work toward wholeness. And for my birthday, I want to add to that. So, I’m planning a year-long celebration. Sounds fun, right?

Well, I’m using the term celebration loosely. What I really want from my 37th year is better physical health. I don’t know if it’s feasible, but I’m setting myself a goal to lose 37 pounds in the next year. It totally won’t be fun, at least not all the time, but if I reached even half my goal, I’d be doing myself some good.

Why do I want to do this? Well, for starters, I’m embarrassed when I take the kids to the park and I can’t keep up. On scooters or bikes, they zoom ahead, and even if I lightly jog, I can’t keep up and I end up trying to catch my breath, legs and lungs burning. I want them to have an active life and I don’t want to sit on the sidelines.

Second, this whole back pain episode from last week scared me a little. I know that fitness alone won’t keep me from having pain or physical problems, but I can certainly do better for myself and my body.

Third, winter is the worst time for me to make a decision about increasing my physical activity because I don’t have a gym membership and I’d rather walk or run outside, anyway. So winter is the wrong time for me to set any kind of goal. May, however, is the perfect time. The weather is consistently nice. The downside of May is that mid-month, I lose my mid-week preschool mornings.

But a plan can help, so I’ve got one. And I’ll need to anticipate challenges and problems so I don’t get discouraged.

Jordan McQueen | Creative Commons | via unsplash

Jordan McQueen | Creative Commons | via unsplash

Here’s what I think it’s going to take for me to make progress toward this goal:

  • Meal planning and calorie tracking. I often dislike both of these things, but the meal planning keeps me from feeding my family and myself junk all the time and the calorie tracking helps me make better decisions about what I eat. If there is good stuff to eat in this house, then I will eat it. If there is not, then I make poor choices. I’d rather track calories than go on a diet that excludes something because I want to be in charge of my choices.

    Daria Nepriakhina | Creative Commons | via unsplash

    Daria Nepriakhina | Creative Commons | via unsplash

  • Exercise. (Duh.) But specifically, I need to plan it in my day. I’m hoping to get in a daily walk and eventually start the couch to 5K program again. I’ve been inactive long enough that I think walking will be best to start. Once I’m feeling better about making room in my day for a walk, I’ll start running again. And as motivation, I’ll sign up for a 5K for the fall. It’s been many years since I’ve run a 5K (it was just the one time) but I enjoy the challenge. Most of the time.
  • Weekly weigh-ins. I know numbers on a scale don’t tell the whole story, and I usually dread stepping on it once a week, but I need some kind of measure of progress.
  • Accountability and discipline. I’m going to need to plan exercise into my day because it won’t just happen on its own. And I will need the accountability of others asking me how it’s going or checking in with me. That’s partly why I’m blogging about it. I don’t like to admit that I’m not happy with my body or level of fitness, but if I don’t tell anyone that, I won’t make any changes. I’ve tried and failed before to make a good plan for weight loss, but it fizzled for whatever reason. Don’t let me fizzle, okay?

I know everyone has a different idea of what works, and I’d love to hear about your journey to get in better physical fitness or health. For now, this is my plan.

Do you have a health/fitness goal? How do you stick to a weight-loss plan or a fitness regime?

What are the challenges you face or have faced when making decisions for healthy living?

When all you can do is be still

I woke Sunday morning with back pain so bad I had trouble walking. The tightness would grip me and I would cry out and lean against someone or something or drop to my knees. Anything to relieve the pain.

It was the most helpless I’ve felt physically since giving birth to my children.

That was enough to convince my husband that we needed to head to urgent care where I would at least get some medication to help with the pain. Two hours of waiting and I was given painkillers and muscle relaxers to manage the pain until it passes or I decide to take another course of action.

So I spent a lot of Sunday being still, not by choice but by necessity.

Yu-chuan Hsu | Creative Commons | via unsplash

Yu-chuan Hsu | Creative Commons | via unsplash

It’s a humbling thing to be in so much pain and rely on others to get you the things you need. I reserved my energy for the effort it took to get off the couch only for necessity (the bathroom).

And I realized that I don’t sit still very well. All day I fought the urge to get up. For food. For drink. To help the kids. Just to do something different. And I found myself getting frustrated because all I did was sit. And rearrange my position for comfort. When I was hungry or needed water, I had to ask. When the rice sock needed re-heating, I had to ask. Apparently I’m not very good at asking, either.

So, it was a hard spot for me to be in. Today I’m a bit better, but still trying to take it easy. My husband is home today, but he won’t be tomorrow and I want to be able to participate in our lives again. It’s a scary prospect, not knowing when or if you’ll be able to do regular life stuff again.

Being still has been my only choice, and I’m surprised at how hard it is.

Is it harder because I didn’t choose it? Because it’s the result of pain?

There’s a psalm that says, “Be still and know that I am God.” And I want to believe that I can do that in the midst of everyday life, but when stillness is a necessity and I resist it, maybe I’m in desperate need of it after all. Maybe I need to, even when I’m not bound by pain, behave as though I am. I am a master at starting a dozen different things and finishing none. I am notorious for sitting down to do one thing and remembering 10 other things I could be doing.

Be still? Who has time?

And yet, being still is a gift.

From my vantage point on the couch, I saw a robin land on the tree branches in our front yard, and I watched him watch us, sitting there for minutes. I heard my kids say actual words instead of just hearing their noise. I was aware of everything going on around me because I was undistracted by anything else. And I was dependent on others, so I felt I needed to be present mentally with them. Our daughter snuggled close and I appreciated the closeness. Some days, I’ve been touched too much and can’t handle another sensation, but last night I needed it.

I also took a 2-hour nap, aided by the medicine, I’m sure, but that’s almost unheard of for me. Twenty minutes on rare occasions is about my limit. I’ve resisted naps for as long as I can remember, afraid of missing out. Maybe this is why I choose not to be still. I’m afraid I’ll be missing something.

Stillness is both a necessity and a luxury, and I need to treat it as such.

To the world around me, stillness might look like idleness. But it’s not the same thing.

And maybe that’s what I’m afraid of, too. That if I’m still, I’ll be looked at as lazy. Ours is a culture that values the doers, not the be-ers, so I convince myself to do and do and do until I’m done. (And honestly, who of us is ever done?) Or overdone.

This back pain/muscle strain is a combination of overdoing it (cleaning, walking, chasing the kids at the park) and underdoing it. I have neglected my health for years, and this is just one more indicator that I need to take care of myself.

Otherwise, I’ll be celebrating my 37th birthday next week like an 87-year-old–limitedly mobile, with body aches and pains, ingesting medicine to keep me functioning.

There is a time to do and a time to be, and I pray that I will know and sense the difference. And give equal value to both times.

Something else this forced stillness has reminded me: I want to be well. I don’t want to keep telling the children I can’t do this or that with them because my back hurts. I don’t want this to be my life, and it doesn’t have to be. At least not yet. I have options to relieve my back pain that doesn’t yet involve surgery or chronic pain. Exercise, chiropractic care, yoga, orthopedic footwear. All of these are possibilities, and I am thankful for the choices.

Being still is also a choice. I can say “no” to busyness, “no” to doing one more thing, “no” to my value being only in what I do instead of in who I am.

I don’t have to like it, at least not at first, but stillness is a gift, forced or unforced. And I will learn to appreciate it.

Have you ever been forced to “be still” because of illness or injury? How did you handle that time? What keeps you from regularly being still in your life?