This is, very obviously, not an exercise/diet/self improvement type of blog in any way, shape or form. If anything, I could be called an enabler for such things as chocolate addictions. However, I think it is worth mentioning, necessary to mention, even, that exercise has totally changed my life.
Well. Maybe not rocked it to its core or anything. But it was definitely a big part of what finally lifted the fog I felt lost in for a few months following my last miscarriage. The greatest thing it did for me, even more than the faint but still visible physical changes that are surfacing, was to allow me to see myself in a new way. I got to reinvent myself.
See, I have always thought of myself as somewhat soft, if you know what I mean. A bit of a wuss about things like headaches, colds, menstrual cramps, slight variations in temperature, having to sit in the backseat, etc. Not a fan of anything that would cause me to perspire, and certainly not a seeker of muscle tone. A girly girl, definitely. (I think the fact that I got through childbirth- TWICE, even- without an epidural shocked me more than anyone else. Sure, I had said I really didn't want one, but I said it with kind of the same mindset I am in when I say I really don't want a second piece of cake. Even I don't believe myself.)
I have never enjoyed exercise, and I felt that as long as I watched what I ate, that was good enough. (I'm using the term "watching" very loosely here.) But after that second miscarriage, I was so sad, so conflicted, and more than anything, so flat and numb feeling, that I knew I had to change up something in my life. And I had heard that those endorphins can cheer you up, so... I begrudgingly requested a gym membership for my birthday in September. Aside from a brief hiatus after my hernia surgery, I've been going two to four times a week ever since, kids in tow, and walked, jogged, biked, done the Nautilus circuit, and even tried out the hot tub. Just once, though. Mostly I've run, which is perhaps the most shocking part of it all.
I've always hated running, and more than that, I'm not really supposed to run, since I have weak knees. I've been advised to ride an exercise bike or swim for cardio instead. But I'm a terrible swimmer- I look like I'm drowning when I try to swim laps- and I hate being on the bike. I feel like a hamster on a wheel. So, I'm running anyways. And slowly but surely, I am enjoying it. Looking forward to it, even. Once I start panting, actually getting my heart rate up, it feels good. My body craves it, sometimes. I can feel my pulse quicken when I approach the track, much the way it would in the past upon spotting a box of chocolates. Okay, it still quickens for chocolate. But but BUT- now it quickens for running, too. And that is something I never, ever thought I would say.
I am pretty proud of myself.