Thirty Minutes, Three Times a Week is Not Too Much to Ask

I work at a gym for women and I cannot stress enough how interesting and unique my days are. On any given day, I learn the proper ways to cook various foods, the wedding betrayals made by old friends, how to knit socks by the pair on 40 inch circular needles, and a variety of other sundry things. More than anything else, though, I hear about how little these women do for themselves on a day to day basis while being expected to do everything for everybody else.
I’ll give you an example.

One of my women only gets to the club about once a week and is thinking about quitting. Not because of laziness or lack of will, but because she is too busy. She has two kids who are school aged, one of whom is just shy of having her learners. They both play sports and participate in various other activities after school. Her husband has a full time job and is a member of the deacon board at their church. I know all this because when I asked her what she had that was hers, she began listing everything that everyone else in her household did that she makes happen. She chauffeurs, cheers in the stands, volunteers as a parent advisor/concessions worker/poster maker for most of what the kids do, and manages to get supper on the table most nights of the week, even if it’s just a “grab and go” sort of night.

Her family has all these different activities, but she’s the one without any time.

I sat down with her and talked about how she could make her schedule work with exercising. Her husband gets home at 5:30 and they live 5-7 minutes away from the gym. I recommended that he could take care of the kids’ needs from 5:30-6:15 while she runs here to get her 30 minutes in for three days a week.

Impossible. Why?


Her: “He’s been at work all day and is exhausted. He works full time.”

Me: “What time do you get up in the morning?”

Her: “5:30, to get the kids up and ready for school.”

Me: “And your husband?”

Her: “7:30 to be on the road by 8:30.”

Me: “Do you have any time off during the day?”

Her: “No, I’m pretty much taking care of the house and everything else all day. It’s why I can’t get here.”

If that sounds familiar to you, guess what, sweetie. You work full time, too. The only difference is that you don’t get paid for it and feel guilty because of it. We all feel guilty when we take care of ourselves first, often leading us to not take care of ourselves at all. The consequence of this is that we end up not taking care of anyone to the best of our abilities. I have personal experience in this department.

Growing up, I was the kid with the crazy schedule. Monday/Tuesday/Thursday rehearsals, Wednesday night church, Friday ballgames, Saturday show choir performances, Sunday church activities… Mom was toting me around everywhere while still working a full time job, the whole time neglecting herself for the benefit of my becoming well-rounded. The truth is, however, that I didn’t need all of those things at all much less at the expense of my mother’s health and well being. I would have gladly given some of it up so that she could have taken time for herself. If you’re a person who has kids, I’ll bet they’d say the same thing.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that taking care of yourself should not be something you only do when the timing is right. Sometimes, it’s a matter of telling someone “no”. Other times, it’s about letting your child fail at something now so they can win at something else later. Perhaps, more often than not, it’s about asking for help from those around you. If you wait for perfect timing, you’ll never get around to taking that walk, lifting that weight, or feeling the strength of your body begin comparing with the strength of your spirit. It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it. In the past two years, I’ve been laid off twice, performed in several shows, hosted multiple dinners, and assisted in fundraisers. Right now, I’m rehearsing one show, performing in another, called back for a third, teaching workshops at a local high school, writing a book about my family history for my grandmother’s 75th birthday, renovating our old home for new renters, working at the gym, applying for a job with a very long interview process…

…and that’s just this month.

On paper, I simply do not have time for me or anyone else. Therefore, I have had to make time. If I can make time for a healthier version of me, than anybody can.

Of Weight Loss and World Peace

The announcement of a mass murderer’s death was announced last night, making Facebook a verbal warzone. Some people were morbidly excited, vengeance dripping from their posts like bloody spit from wild dogs. Some spewed dissent anywhere they could play Devil’s Advocate. Some cheered for Obama’s mad terrorist-killing ninja skills, their conservative counterparts angrily protesting that the president had nothing to do with anything good ever and that Commander-n-Chief is really more of a casual title, like “World’s Greatest Dad” or “Governor of South Carolina”. Still others protested that his death doesn’t stop the war and, therefore, everyone should stop celebrating anything because it’s only going to make things worse in the end.

That’s what got me. The folks who said “THIS DOESN’T DO ANYTHING” weighed on my mind.

“The wars not over yall this is just the beginning so all yall can all stop celebrating”

Well, duh, friend from high school who hates punctuation. Of course the war is not over. I don’t think anybody thinks it is. In fact, most of us think we still have a lot of ground to cover. People are celebrating what they hope to be a step in the right direction.

Right?

To bring it back to what this blog is actually about, I was excited to lose 2 pounds my first week on WW, but I certainly didn’t think I was done there. It’s taken perseverance, half-pound losses that slowly work towards full ones. I had a three week plateau where the scale didn’t seem to move even though I was doing everything right. I didn’t see the results of the good I was doing for three agonizing weeks, but was rewarded for my perseverance with a three pound loss the next week.

Weight loss and World Peace have that very much in common. They are both cumulative efforts, sums of many small victories and setbacks that hopefully tip the scales on the side of good. Neither happens overnight, though we desire it to do so. Nobody agrees upon the best method to make it happen, though most think their method is the only one that will work. Both efforts are ongoing. They move in the right direction with 10 extra minutes on the treadmill or an outstretched hand. They can suffer with a dark thought or an extra cupcake. But, through metaphorical feast and famine, we carry on. When we are the victor, we cheer for a moment then we carry on. When we have a setback, we shake our head, wipe our eyes, and we carry on.

It’s the “carry on” in us that makes us resilient. It’s what makes us become better.

I leave you with my final Facebook post last night. My first post about the event was in jest, as many of my posts are, but this one is how I feel:

“So, here's the thing. I celebrate a victory that I hope is a step in the way of peace. I pray for the family and loved ones of someone who was ultimately a man, not a god, not an enemy, but a fellow human. I mourn the potential that was wasted on a life filled with hate and destruction. I pray for the ability to forgive and love a man who would not do the same for me.”