Oh, I know I'm not going to die. But somehow, when the timer on my phone indicates it's time to walk on the dreaded treadmill, I reluctantly grab my Sketchers and sulk into the kitchen where the beast awaits. Because I'm going from total couch potato to early walker, I'm only doing 1/2 mile twice a day, but you would think I'm running a marathon with all the huffing and puffing I do. Most of it is for show. To let my husband know I'm working really, really hard. So I get my rewards after (kisses..."you did it, honey!"...stuff like that).
It really isn't that bad. I'm giving the old heart a mediocre workout and getting off the couch at least twice a day...more than before, anyway. I listen to some good Christian music as motivation (you'd be surprised at how many songs have lyrics that go along with the theme that Jesus is walking along with me or carrying me when I get too tired to walk), close my eyes, and use that time to pray for those who can't walk or who walk miles just to go to school. Before I know it, I'm done.
As soon as I'm used to this pace and my legs stop shaking when I've finished, I'll up the ante and set the controls to go for 3/4 of a mile and keep upping it until I get to a good running pace. It has taken years to get to the place I'm at and it's going to take years to take it off. I told Joel last night we just have to think of this activity as a lifetime deal and he agreed. Having him doing it with me is so encouraging. Sometimes I think of my friend, Brian, who is now running marathons or my friend, Bruce, who spins...they keep me motivated, too.
And so it continues.
A place to unload the worries of the day and celebrate the knowledge I am not alone in this crazy world!
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