Pride & Trying to Avoid the Fall

As discussed previously, this middle-aged bod seems to have begun the forward-looking to its winter of life, stockpiling reserves against the onslaught of time.  Except that through the miracles of modern medicine and hygiene, we may now pass through or escape insults fatal in a previous age.  Coronary disease is a much more present threat than starvation or flu.  We no longer need the storehouse our genes are set upon.  Combine that with the dreaded Sedentary Lifestyle (that is to say, no longer hunting, gathering, migrating on foot, and schlepping the water) and we find ourselves in need of self-imposed exertion.  Meh.  Feh.  Bleh!  I don’ wanna.

But there it is.  So.  Something aerobic, efficient time-wise speaking, and not terribly complicated: sounds like running.  It’s like walking ~I’ve been able to do that all by myself for some time now~ only faster.  I could become a runner.  In fact, I have been dabbling at it for a bit.  Except it hasn’t really taken.  Something usually hurts, anywhere from discomfortable* to seriously worrisome.  So I end up doing interval training by default: run some, walk some.  But I’m all kitted out like a runner.  I have the cool shorts and the heinous shoes.  Young, healthy people run; arthritic old ladies walk.  They wear velour sweatsuits and clunky, beige, orthopædic shoes.

Yes, that would be my pride talking.  I know it’s offensive and not even true, but it still feels like being pushed back on my heels… toward the rocker… the wheelchair… the bed with rails, buttons, and a motor.  It’s a slippery slope and I’m not giving an inch that isn’t taken from me.

 Do what you can do; Be happy with what you can do.

With peace in my spirit, I accept this for yoga.  In that studio, I have no pride.  And I am a far better yogini than I am a runner.  Why does my pride assert itself out there?  If I can fall over on the mat and laugh, why do I feel self-conscious slowing to a vigorous walk?  Especially when most of the people I’m passing don’t even do that (and it shows).  A brisk, focused walk ~even with no running at all, if the joints won’t abide it~ is a worthy addition to any day otherwise spent sitting on one’s duff.

There.  I will put on the earphones and the playlist where every song is ooo! my favorite, and head out the door to do what I can do and be happy with it.

*Yes, that’s a word.  It is the state one is in after the doctor says, “You may experience some discomfort,” which means, “This is going to bloody well hurt and I don’t want to hear about it.”

[And just for Betsy: I definitely understand the why, so... White Bikini White Bikini White Bikini, GO! Thanks, girl.]

6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Marcie
    Jul 30, 2012 @ 15:07:01

    Funny you mention genetics. I really believe that “survival of the fittest” is over. We can operate and medicate the weakest of us to keep on living and reproducing so I think we’re breeding a weak population. Will make it harder and harder to stay healthy and in shape as years go by. And don’t feel bad about not being too into running. You are not alone! Hard on the knees and hips anyway. If only I could boogie with my friends an hour a day, I’d be in great shape! Dancing always gets me going. That and a couple of margaritas too! :-)

    Reply

  2. theh2obaby
    Jul 30, 2012 @ 15:15:10

    And yes, the man & I were •just• talking about human evolution having mostly stopped because ~statistically~ we all make it to reproductive age. But then, some great minds that would have died from frail bodies continue to contribute to society. Eek! We’re headed to become the Star Trek giant-headed-wienies :o

    Reply

  3. Eleanore Gigandet
    Jul 30, 2012 @ 18:40:47

    You go girl!!! At 84, I can’t run, but I can still walk… my goal – 1000 steps a day, but, sadly, I don’t really have a good place to walk – nothing but hills and valleys here, and the danger of wild animals and rattlers. So, I walk around the old filled in swimming pool, or around the house. The main thing is to keep at it.

    Reply

    • theh2obaby
      Aug 19, 2012 @ 21:40:31

      You are a good example. The next night, my back did a spaz and laid me out for almost 24 hrs. Easy does it, as they say. You keep walking and so will I.

      Reply

  4. Trackback: White Week 2013: Austrian Alps « I Call It My Art

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

LINKwithlove
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 79 other followers

%d bloggers like this: