Of Exercise 2

My husband used to jog or run on a treadmill in our apartment for exercise. At one point, he developed a problem with his ankle and couldn’t do this type of exercise for a prolonged period of time. At that time, I suggested he join a local health club and take up swimming for exercise and he did so. Since that time, he has continued to swim between 3 and 5 days a week. After about 4-5 years, he has noticed that he has developed shoulder, arm and back muscles that weren’t there before. There’s body definition that gradually built up almost imperceptibly through the years as he has grown stronger and developed those muscles.

My husband’s situation regarding exercise and bodily changes comes to mind as I have continued to try and incorporate more exercise into my life. I mentioned before that I could barely walk before I started my current lifestyle change. My goal initially was simply to be able to approach daily movement such as standing, walking, and even lying down for long periods of time without pain. I still have pain, but it’s nothing like before, and I can walk now.

Last November, I posted that I had a recumbent bike that I couldn’t use because my stomach was too big and heavy and lay on my thighs so it was too hard to pedal on it. Yesterday, I dusted it off and gave it another go. My stomach is still an issue, but nothing like it was several months ago. Previously, I was lucky to last 3 minutes before my legs screamed “uncle”, and to do 9 minutes in total with breaks. Last night, I could manage 5 minutes before my inner thigh muscles made me give up the ghost. I managed 22 minutes with breaks every 5 minutes or so, before I decided it’d be wise to give it a rest. I was pretty pleased with this progress though I clearly have awhile to go.

Both my husband’s swimming-related body changes and my progress with the recumbent bike were good reminders that it is important to start slow and wait for your body to adapt to the demands you are placing on it. If you set the bar too high too early, you’re going to get frustrated and possibly injure yourself. It’s better to do something easier until you get stronger and lose some weight and become more flexible and capable of better movement.

I was frustrated initially that I couldn’t do very much because I felt more exercise would help my weight loss progress more rapidly, but I’ve learned that I need to be very patient about it. It’s not that I was ever lazy before and didn’t move (because I was always moving as much as I could). It was simply the case that I was too heavy to move without pain and needed to lose more weight to reduce the strain on my body before I could introduce further strain with more exercise. I've done exercise (walking, weight lifting, now the recumbent bike) five minutes at a time for months, and can really see the cumulative results by now.

Patience...

"Patience" is something I have to keep telling myself through gritted teeth. I'm so tired of my body that sometimes I just want to scream in frustration. I know I have to be patient, and as I've said before, I am absolutely not itching to reach the end so I can start eating more again. I'm on a plan for life now, but...

The thing I'm losing patience with is not looking better or being a significantly smaller size. I don't want to be stared at, pointed at, or made fun of anymore. I don't want to worry about fitting into chairs with handles or having to buy two seats if I go on an airplane. I'm sick of living my fat girl's fears. I'm tired of regarding my body with disgust and thinking everyone else is as well. I'm patient with being fat, just not this fat.

When I started my efforts, I don't know how much I weighed, but it was probably near 400 lbs. When I started blogging, I guessed I may have weighed 330-350, but I wonder now if it was more like 370-390. I've lost a lot, but I still look freaking huge. If I could bear it, I'd get on the scale, but I just can't handle knowing exactly how far I have yet to go.

Back when I lost weight in my late teens, I think I weighed nearly 300 lbs. At that time, I remember thinking that I would have found the whole endeavor more bearable if I just could have started out at 200 because then the road wouldn't have been so long and daunting. Now, that path seems like nothing compared to the one I've been traveling this time around.

When I stand in the shower, scrubbing my vast expanses of flesh, I find myself wishing I could bargain with my body and convince it to let me live in a nicer one if I promise never to overeat again and to take good care of myself. It's like I want to live in a better house before I've paid for it or finished the remodel, and want it to just give me what I want simply because I earnestly promise that I will do the work, and I will pay for it all. But, it doesn't work that way. there's no way of getting it now and paying for it later. I have to pay as I go, and sometimes the wait just crushes me.