Several years ago, as a supervisor, I was struggling with “personality differences” (the great team divider) at work. I was ready to admit defeat, crawl back into bed and pull up the covers. Permanently.
One morning before work my husband gave me a gift: a can of Whoop Ass! I have no idea what the stuff tastes like, or even if it’s actually meant for human consumption, but it made me laugh and helped me make it through the day. I took it to work that day and it sat on my bookshelf there until the day I left that job.
I still have that same can, sitting on my desk at home now. I sometimes move it to my dresser or the bathroom sink so I can see it first thing in the morning during difficult times.
I moved it to the bathroom sink last night in preparation for a healthier day today. I’ve skipped the gym for a couple of days (I did take a nice walk outside on Saturday, the first day our weather gave any indication that it might actually be spring!) and since it’s not a set habit yet, I knew this morning it would be a chore just to lace my shoes, much less make it to the gym.
I’m dressed for the gym now and here I sit. Just had to check my email, Facebook and WP. It’s been an hour. Maybe it’s time to open the can and drink the stuff.
It occurred to me a few minutes ago, as I was posting about the “woe is me” way the first week of my new health regime ended that I’m at the dangerous edge of fabrication.
I mean, this is my record of my efforts to regain my health, what I learn along the way and what progress I make. Is it not, therefore my right, nay, my obligation, to show visible success at every turn? To be a shining beacon on encouragement to all who follow me? To all who want to be poster children for wellness? Continue reading
I’m spending more time in the gym these days. It’s a nice place, city owned and operated, and very welcoming of all ages, types and exercise levels. I like that; it makes me comfortable and it makes for great people watching. It also makes for good “people musing” and I spend a lot of time creating little life stories for the people I see there.
Daily I see the same woman who arrives via a special bus everyday when I’m about 15 minutes into my treadmill time. She disembarks the bus, using pole/crutches and taking the steps one pole, one foot, one pole, one foot at a time, without assistance. I’m in awe of her that she never misses a step and never misses a day even during our very wet winter. I never see what kind of workout she does once inside, but I’m thinking it’s the pool. There are several levels of water aerobics and a very cool circulating river feature.