I Lost Some Fitness and Gained Some Health.

If you have been reading this blog for awhile, you know I took several breaks from running last year, choosing to focus on other activities like strength and hiking. My body was stressed. I felt super tired. I kept reading about people saying that running could overtax an already stressed body, so I quit. I restarted with commitment to base building last November. I remembered how much I enjoy running and renewed my commitment to try to stay healthy enough to do it. I had some race goals, but knew I had to hold those lightly given the continued prevalence of COVID-19.

Enter January when I found a 5K race I thought my husband might like to do. I proposed the idea, and was delighted when he accepted the challenge to train for it. I put on my coach's hat, referenced a few different Couch to 5K plans and drafted a calendar for him. I thought that he would train himself, but as it were, we started training together. Initially, I would go for a run and then come back and run his shorter training distance with him as a cool down. As his distances increased, though I started running with him first, and then running a bit longer by myself at the end. That greatly decreased my pace per mile, but allowed me to support him as he built up his fitness. 

To my surprise, the more my husband and I ran together, the more I enjoyed it and the less I cared about my pace. The more I enjoyed the process of running with my husband, the more I prioritized it. If I was tired on the off days of running with him, I walked rather than ran. If I thought that a different fitness activity might affect running, I didn't do it. I hiked less, watched my weight lifting, and overall let go quite a bit of fitness.

Overall, from January to now, my 5K pace has decreased over a minute a minute. When I look at just the facts, I get a little bit frustrated. But then I think about what I have gained. I have enjoyed extra time with my husband. I have felt less obsessed with running and more appreciative of it. I have tuned into my body and its needs a bit more. I have started to value running more for its secondary social, emotional, and mental benefits than its primary physical benefits. On the whole, I feel in a more balanced place.

Registered Dietitian, recipe developer, and blogger Gena Hamshaw wrote earlier this year about the importance of perspective when it comes to our physical bodies. She shared,

It’s humbling to find ourselves in a different state of ability than the one we used to have. It’s natural to look backwards. But we’re human beings, not machines. We’re changing all the time, often mysteriously and in a way that defies expectations. The best we can do is to meet ourselves where we are and thank our bodies for continuing to give us a home.

A lot has happened since my "peak" level of fitness: a move, a new job, COVID, race cancellations, restrictions that led to a more sedentary life, personal and social tragedies, etc. I can mourn the level of fitness I once had or give thanks for the ability to engage. I can look with envy at my past stats, or think gratefully about the blessing it is to still be living at all after so many have lost their lives. I can resent running with my husband because it slows me down, or enjoy every extra minute of the time that he dedicates to running with me. I have choices about my perspective, and it is pretty apparent which choices benefit me most.

There is fitness, and then there is health. Fitness is primarily physical. Health is so much more. It is a unique interplay of relational, mental, emotional, social, spiritual and so many other factors. While I may have lost some physical fitness over the past year, I have gained so much more. I am grateful, and thankful to God, my body, and my husband for getting me here.

The World is My Oyster (Or Is It?)

I remember that morning very clearly, the day of my masters graduation. I went for a jog in the crisp clear air, and as my feet hit the pavement of my oh, so familiar route, I thought, “The world is my oyster. I can do anything.” I felt a sense of freedom that day, a sense of exhilaration, a sense of anticipation. Little did I know that my decision to pursue counseling licensure in Arizona would require nine months of back and forth correspondence with the state counseling board, or that finding a job and community in Arizona would be so hard or so time-consuming.

But here I am, two and a half years later, living in Arizona, working as a counselor. As 2019 has begun, I see many open days before me. I know that I can fill the pages of this book of my year as I choose, but I also realize that my time and energy are limited. I can do anything, but I can't do everything.

I enjoy fitness, but it isn't my life. Besides physical therapy, I basically have 30 minutes a day to commit to exercise. That means I can choose weights or cardio, but not both. I have to choose what is more important. I just don't have time or energy to throw around the weights and hit the streets for my preferred three mile plus runs.

I've finally gotten to the point where I'm getting more invitations to do social things, but I just don't have time for all of them. Sometimes, I need to stretch and expand my horizons by hanging out with new people and doing new things. Other times, I need to say, “No,” in order to focus on investing more deeply in the relationships that are most important to me.

Work presents dozens of opportunities for training and learning, and frankly, just more hours, but I need to decide what I'm called to do and what I'm not. Work is a big part of my world, but not my entire world. I don't want it to become all-consuming.

I have numerous hobbies and activities I'd like to do in my spare time, but there just isn't always time for everything. I need to rest, too.

So the world is my oyster, but it's also not. Many opportunities lie before me, but I have the responsibility to choose which ones to crack into, and which ones not. I have to choose where to mine for beauty, and what mines to let others tend to. Life is beautiful, but I miss the fullness of that beauty if I never stop to appreciate it.

May God give me wisdom as I anticipate the days ahead and traverse with him the sands, waves, and seashores of this life.

Yoga Revolution (Yoga with Adriene) Review

I wrote earlier about my experience with 30 Days of Yoga. I enjoyed that journey, the mental discipline, the time-management, the body practice. And now I've completed another journey: The 31 Day Yoga Revolution with Adriene Mischler. I learned about Yoga with Adriene from a friend who posted lovely photos of her yoga journey on Instagram. After a month off daily yoga practice (goodbye February), I wanted to get back into it. So I signed up.

Let's just say I wasn't a fan. Adriene's yoga is slower and more meditative. Hatha style, not vinyasa. Strength, not stamina focused. Adriene talks a lot. About things other than yoga. She's silly, and sometimes inappropriate, borderline crude. She's way into self-love. And maybe to an unhealthy extent. I found myself unhappy, frustrated after sessions. I started adding ten minutes of Fitness Blender before the yoga. (These videos are shorter than many of Do Yoga With Me's challenges.) That helped a little. But I still found myself angsty.

I completed the final day of the challenge last Friday, and I was grateful. I have to admit that video surprised me a little, though. Adriene didn't talk and just practiced. I had to really watch to follow. I had to focus. This practice contained more flows. More chatarunga. I liked the music in the background. At the end, I finally got into crow (only for a few seconds, but it still counts). I left feeling strong and proud and happy. I think that's what Adriene wanted for her yogis.

So did I enjoy the 31 Day Yoga Revolution? No, not really. Will I continue with another of Adriene's challenges? (Hello, 30 Days of Yoga or Yoga Camp.) Probably not. Yoga with Adriene is not my style. But I still learned from this experience. I practiced discipline. I processed frustration. I got stronger. I let myself feel.

It's okay to dislike. It's okay for something to not be my thing. But what's important is working through the struggle and discomfort, accepting them, accepting myself in the process. That's the revolution.