Unemployment is good for working out

I love games. I pretty frequently lose them (unless I'm on team "Winning!" for Taboo . . . hee hee!), but I enjoy how games mentally challenge me.

I also love, love, love my brother even though we are often competitive with each other. Who's mom's favorite? Which one of us is smarter, funnier, or most beloved? We are mostly kidding about these things (but not entirely). So, when he and I came up with a makeshift and ridiculously funny game, we both went all in.

I'm not sure how this came about, but when he got his iPhone he and I were showing each other tricks, tips, and apps. I showed him how to set up folders and move apps on the screens, he showed me how to set up my navigator. I told him to get Words with Friends, and he told me to get Dictionary.com. "Why?!" I said. He said, "Well, this might sound stupid, but I like getting the word of the day. Then, even though I'm a jock and a bartender, I try to use it in a sentence three times. I don't care if people think it's weird. I do what I want."

I was pretty impressed with that so I downloaded it immediately. And somehow over the next week, what evolved was a game of our own making. We started texting each other with sentences using the word of the day. And somehow this turned into, a sentence using the word of the day making fun of something or someone in our family. This, in turn, evolved into whichever one of us got the best sentence FIRST using the word of the day gets the "point." Now, we don't (to my knowledge) ever count points across weeks or months. But whoever gets the point gets the pride of that . . . until the next day :)

The effect of this is that I get to text my brother nearly every day. a couple of weeks ago the word was "excogitate." I managed to use it in a sentence referencing another running inside joke we have going right now. So, we were both laughing at my text. Then he asked how I was. And we started talking about working out - a common theme in our conversations. He said, "Unemployment is good for working out."

He should know. He played this game for nearly two years. And I saw how hard unemployment was on him. It was a similar situation in that his job was eliminated through no fault of his. He combated the difficult emotions of joblessness through humor. He would quote the movie "Knocked up" and say, "Yeaaaahhhh. I'm uh . . . no work today!" He laughed at the lifestyle of wearing sweats every day. But I know he was also anxious, antsy, and upset about the situation. So, he made jokes. He became sarcastic, and he poured even more of himself into working out. And that's saying a lot since he had been running, lifting, and practicing Jiu-Jitsu before he was let go. He had not one, but two low-cost gym memberships during that time. And he used them both.

So, when he said, "Unemployment is good for working out." I thought about it for a minute and then knew, that of all people, he would best understand when I said," And vice versa. It helps me not get crazy or depressed."

It will not be a shocker to any of you that while I don't exactly look forward to my dates with the treadmill, I have come to appreciate my time being active. Where it used to be a chore and necessity, I now really, really need that time. It is time out of the house. It is time away from screen. It is time away from my fears that I will end up living under someone else's roof.

So, it turns out, that I am not a sloth, regardless of what my physique might suggest.

A couple of weeks ago I was talking to another friend who was checking on me and I said to him, about not responding right away, "Sorry, you caught me at the end of my run." He asked if it was a good one. As it happened it wasn't, but what I said was, "There are no good runs. Only running assignments I accomplish and those I don't." This is still true almost every day. I don't enjoy how my body feels when I'm running. Pardon me while I sound like an old lady - my feet hurt, my back hurts, my knee hurts, and it takes a lot more focus than someone like me with some ADD tendency often has to get my breathing in rhythm. I often have to close my eyes and try to go inward to somewhere that has nothing to do with the people on the treadmills next to me, the TV screen above me, the (not really so awful) pain, and the voice inside my head saying, "Stop!"

But the other thing that is true is that I'm grateful for it. Where I used to be assigned 90 - 120 minutes of cardio a week and 3 hours of high interval resistance, I'm now still doing the resistance but adding to the cardio . . . on purpose. Yesterday I swam two miles and ran two miles. The day before I lifted and then swam two miles. On a treadmill I'm not second guessing a cover letter. On a treadmill I'm not wondering about an interview. On a treadmill I'm far too busy to add and re-add a budget. I can fight for something tangible on a treadmill.

I wish I had understood this before I lost my job. The truth is, this is, in very real ways, the cure for many of my very real health issues. Working out can only positively impact PCOSor anyone working against insulin by stabilizing their health through regular exercise, and particularly a good blend of cardio and resistance, interval and/or anaerobic training.  Asthmatics who exercise stand to reduce stress (which can trigger respiratory issues), increase lung function, and sleep better. Whatever issues with focus I have are measurably improved by burning some energy off, and even my migraine issues are improved by exercising. While running may not be the very best thing to do for my knees (swimming IS but is not the very best thing I could do for my hair. Yes, that's right, I am a real girl somewhere underneath all of my facade and I have this one vanity) I figure this: my knees are wrecked enough that they're not going to last the rest of my lifetime. But they're working now so I should take advantage of it (because I can still remember palpably how frustrated I was when confined to an arm bike for weeks and weeks while my knees couldn't bear weight).

"But Christie, you were getting 5 hours of exercise a week before." Yes. Yes I was. But it wasn't enough. I've written about this before. Everyone else in the world gets weight control results from 3-5 hours of exercise a week. I don't. That's just the way it goes. So, if my weight goals weren't responsive to 5 hours a week, it stands to reason that my other health goals weren't being completely serviced by 5 hours a week. Also, let's be honest - 5 hours a week was the goal but between being on the road or on a plane or in a hotel it was often closer to 3 or 4 hours a week. And as I said recently to my trainer, "The thing is, before, if my exercise was on, my food wasn't. Or vice-versa. It was never both being right at the same time." I take responsibility for that. I also think, in analyzing it, I wasn't ever going to be able to fully take on changing that if half my life was spent in transit, without any schedule that resembles normal human life, and unable on many occasions to plan or cook my meals.

So, I'm aimed at 5-6 hours of cardio each week now, in addition to my other "assignments." as much as possible, I try to keep it low impact cardio, and I'm really not thinking of it being "extra" cardio right now. To me it seems more like having missed school and needing to make up for it. As a child, I  was hospitalized for asthma related complications and illnesses at least 2 times a year. My shortest hospitalization was 4 days. My longest was 4 weeks. There was always some homework I could do once I had gotten a little better and wasn't fighting for my life (literal, not exaggeration. I know how to handle it, but fighting for a breath and having your oxygen levels drop despite medication is scary) but I also often had a busy schedule of blood tests, chest X-rays, respiratory therapy, and treatments. So, then, I'd go back to school and have a lot of homework to make up. I feel like that now - I'm making up homework from when I was sick. The difference is I wasn't consumed with chest x-rays or IVs, but with work before now. I did miss hours, and hours of agreed upon "homework" though.

So, when someone said to my 2 miles of running and 2 miles of swimming last night, "Gawwwd. that sounds awful," I was able to say, "I know. But it helps me not freak out right now so it's a good thing. It's hard to get too crazy when I'm this tired."

As I peer through the window of hopeful employment this month I find myself often thinking about the logistics of different positions and quickly on the heels of that thinking, "would I still be able to count on myself to get my workouts in?" I may not, when I go back to work, keep my gym time as high as 9-10 hours a week, but I'd like for it to be higher than the minimum required 5 hours. I sleep better, I like myself better, and the treadmill and I, if no yet friends, are now showing grudging respect for one another. That would have to be considered important even if I was spending 40 hours a week working instead of 30 hours a week job hunting and interviewing.

Inspiration

The importance of inspiration was never more clear to me than last year. I made it through my knee surgery, the physical therapy, and I finished my 365 photography project, kept up with work while taking only two weeks off, and  and turned things into my writing group. After all of that, I. Was. Tiiiiiiirrrred.

I started another 365 self-portrait year right away, and found that it was actually really really hard to keep taking interesting pictures just then. I took a sabbatical from my writing group because all of a sudden the creek was dry. I was struggling at work too, feeling that the things I was doing were sub-par and not very meaningful. Most pressingly, I found myself feeling the effects of not having been able to exercise fully for a year, and it depressed me. It made it hard to exercise. I felt slow, and uncreative, and inarticulate, and I felt hopeless about my body and powerless to fix it. I got into a rut, and it was so hard to get out of it. I had many, many weeks of paying my trainer and then not doing the workout he sent me home with.

I looked for inspiration for a long, long time. I wasn't unaware that I needed to exercise. I wasn't unaware that I needed to find my mojo again. I just didn't know where to look.

I posted notes around the house for myself saying things like, "It will feel good after you go," or "This appointment is as important as any other you make." I watched the weight loss shows and told myself, "If people who weight 500 pounds can do it, you can get your ass off the couch." I looked for classes that would get me excited about exercising. I read books about getting into the groove of writing. I tried shooting other things with my really fancy camera. Nothing.

So, I did a few things. I forgave myself for starting a 365 I didn't finish, and for not having any writing for my group. I took a vacation. And then, when I came back, I just made myself start exercising even though it wasn't and still isn't the thing that feels most fun to me most days. (I actually went running a lot on vacation, and I remember the running "assignment" I took with me and how hard it was to get it done, even with three weeks to do it and how much it pained me to not master it. So when I returned I started making exercise a big priority in my weekly schedule.)

A friend started sharing her results on the eating plan I tried to make work for me. She had lost more than 50 pounds. for the first time in a long time, I felt really excited to work on myself. And as you can see, it made me find something inside worth writing about. I changed my eating and I kept working out, and as I started losing weight, it became more interesting to me to keep working on these things. As my friend continued to lose a lot of weight, and share her process with me, I did get inspired. I measure inspiration by how excited I am to do things I that would normally make me want to burn my eyebrows off. In other words, if I am inspired, I see things differently and delayed gratification is ok.

Inspiration wasn't a flash that hit me all at once, it was a slow process of realizing that feeling better about myself was worth it to keep trying. And I still have to dig down deep to find it a lot of days. I still have days where working out is the last thing I want to do, and eating a pizza is on the top of the list. But inspiration for me means having the presence to question that and work on other habits. I'm still not finishing any of my poems or other creative writing projects. My writing is pretty much confined to work reports and this blog for now (though I have half ideas for a children's book and may write more about that in another post). I'm still wondering if I have the commitment and creativity to do another 365, so my camera is just a sometimes habit for me right now.

With all of these potholes in the road I'm on it shocks me when people tell me I'm inspiring them. It humbles me. It scares me. It makes me want to be more accountable. It feels like a gift. When friends tell me that they are journaling, that they are thinking about different things, that they are running or walking, it makes me think more about my choices, about my writing, about what I'm putting out there when I talk about the work I'm doing to find better ways to be me. It makes me think this blog is doing what I hoped it would - keeping me aimed at working on these things and thinking about what is working and what is not, but also letting me connect with others. I don't do well when isolated; it's so much better when I have opportunities to teach and learn and let the thoughts out of my head that would otherwise cycle around not really going anywhere. When I can say it out loud, or write it out, I'm forced to hear the things those words are telling me on the inside and make sense of them.

So, I want to thank some of the people that inspire me. I am inspired by my brother who has never, ever looked at anything athletic and said, "I can't do that." He just DOES it. I am impressed beyond words by my friends who keep doing 365 projects, and one in particular who just reached his 1000th consecutive day of self-portraits. His steadfastness and determination are astonishing, but he is also an impressively gorgeous photographer. I am inspired by realizing that I have friends in wheelchairs who probably wish they had the privilege to have foot cramps during a run. I am inspired by remembering myself a year ago, and all the things I couldn't do, and all the time I had already spent not being able to do things and feeling limited. I am inspired by my friend who started a blog a couple of months before me. Even though she chose to end her blog and give that time back to her family, her courageous writing, humor, and honesty showed me that blogging could be serious writing but also have a lot of self and heart. I am also inspired by another acquaintance who continues to blog and has made the courageous choice to move his family to follow his wife's career and be a stay-at-home dad for now. That shouldn't be such a remarkable set of choices, but it is, and so those choices move me; and his writing, by the way, is hilarious. I have a friend who has six kids. I knew her and babysat for them when there were half as many children, and her grace, presence, and faith are constant reminders of a place I want to achieve. She also recently decided that in addition to running her own business and raising six children she should start training and running - wow! I am I am inspired by this little girl, and the grace with which she grows past her health challenges. I'm inspired by her parents, who went through the pregnancy under a death sentence for this baby and were rewarded in the end with a different answer and hope to learn and grow with her. I am inspired by the people in my life battling addiction, and finding the courage to be more honest than their addictions have allowed them to be in the past. Even when I am angry and hurt and disappointed, I admire so much my boyfriend for his ability to accept people for what they are, to be humble and loving, and to forgive. I am moved beyond words by my friend and her journey as a wonderful mom to her two boys. She has faced down more demons and disappointments than I can fathom, and somehow keeps a smile on her face and a lightness in her heart whenever we interact, and still has enough left over to reach out to me with sincere concern and advice. Its amazing an heartwarming, and it is clear to me that she has amazing challenges and amazing gifts, and revels in them daily.

And on a regular basis, when I get in the pool with my good friend, I remember three years ago when I had spotted her working out with my trainer and that was all I knew about her. I remember finding myself on a treadmill next to her a few months later, and trying to think how to start a conversation with her without it being an awkward, "Soooo, you work out with Nick too?" kind of interjection. And once we started talking, I wondered why I had ever worried. She is warm, approachable, and funny. As we saw each other more and more at "the changing of the guard" (the point at the end of her workout when I would arrive and be stretching and she would be finishing up) we enjoyed each others company more and more. We worked out together a couple of times, and when I heard about her duathalon, I was so inspired and excited that I said, "Wow, you should do a tri next year!" She quietly said, "Oh, no, I don't swim."

I said, "What do you mean?" It was hard for me to process this, not just because I love to swim so much, but because she is so incredibly strong and fit. I had heard how she decided to conquer her issue with heights by jumping out of a plane, and was so impressed by how she identified something that was holding her back and sought out a way to dominate it. So, we talked about it and I just casually said, "Well, if you ever want to swim with me, let me know." She vehemently shook her head. and I thought that was that.

So, a few months later when she approached me and said, almost shyly (for her), "I'm signed up for a class. A beginning swimming class. After I'm done can I swim with you and get some pointers?" I was so excited (and impressed with her courage). She had learned a lot in her class, but we started from the basics. Here was a woman who had gone through decades of her life not wanting to get in the water and having had traumatic experiences with water getting into the pool with me.  She went from being her usual bubbly, goofy self to being defensive and guarded, so I knew she was really feeling a lot of fear. We started not being able to make it across the pool, and within a week had two strokes that she could swim to make to from wall to wall. Now, 7 months later, she got in the pool, swam 300 meters, and 100 of it was the stroke she least likes and feels the least confident in. It reminds me that at all times in life, people can choose to change, and grow and take on new challenges. She keeps on thanking me for my help, but I don't think she realizes how much she inspires me. She gets in that water every time feeling concerned and unsure, and does real laps and makes real leaps in her ability every time. This weekend, she said, "That's all? Can I do more?" This would have been unthinkable even 2 months ago, and 7 months ago she was PISSED when I even suggested she do the stroke she most struggles with.

I feel proud to have been able to be a part of this transformation, but I also feel lucky to get this boost every time we swim. She doesn't understand how much she gives to me. I need inspiration, because like I said, I don't get hit with inspiration in the religious sense. I don't wake up and feel it in my marrow, at least not right now. I need to locate it every day, and some days I have to look deeper under the bed than others. Some days I don't find it at all, but just make myself do it anyways.

I hope over time that inspiration and belief will stick a little closer to me. I hope that I will keep finding sources and reminders of inspiration. I hope that the creek will fill up again and I will relocate my creativity. But for now, it's enough to know I have enough people and things to point to that keep me going. Thank you to those people who give me every day reminders. Thank you, thank you, thank you.