Staying in Motion

I’ve said it before that the laws of inertia are at play when it comes to health and especially fitness. An object in motion tends to stay in motion; an object at rest tends to stay at rest. I have found these both to be true in my life. I was never active as a kid. I loathed PE, and some of my most traumatizing childhood memories come from it. Dance was a way that I could exercise and not hate life…I still remember “sweating to the oldies” as an 8 year old. I was so excited in one of the sequels that they had a kid in the cast; I had big dreams of that being me some day. (insert groan emoji)

I didn’t start taking fitness seriously until after my surgery 7 years ago. Even then, my main motivation initially was to prevent needing additional surgeries for skin removal, not because I innately wanted to exercise. To my surprise, it became something I not only enjoyed but also obsessed over. I would lift weights an hour in the morning, and then I’d often catch a zumba or yoga class that same afternoon. I made my own rotations from exercises I learned from my free training sessions provided by the gym so as not to get bored.

Fast forward to after I had Elliot, exercise stopped completely. I struggled hard those first months of motherhood. Not sleeping, breastfeeding challenges, working fulltime, and commuting 40 minutes, I felt like I had no energy or time for me. Thankfully after a little over a year, one of my closest friends from childhood who lived only 15 minutes away started working out with me. I was back in motion. I didn’t work out the same level that I did before Elliot, at least not at first, but I was moving again. I got up at 5am and made it happened, and I felt better for it.

Fast forward again, I had a rough pregnancy with Margaret, and I totally fell out of my fitness routine. Where

I stayed diligently working out until two days before giving birth to Elliot, once I fell out of the routine with Margaret, I felt like an object at rest. Nothing could drive me to get moving again.

So here I am, just over a year after giving birth, and I’m ready to move again. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of not having the energy to chase my son. While I have spent most of my life around this weight or higher, this is the first time I truly feel it. My main motivation the last two times I lost weight was entirely with the hopes of pregnancy. Trying to conceive for 3 years took so much emotional energy that I don’t intend to do so again. This time is different. This time I’m doing it for me.

I’m on day 3 of being an object in motion, and I can feel the momentum building. Before Margaret got up this morning, I did a half hour of my RingFit game. This evening I walked a mile before the rain just because it was so nice out and I wanted to be moving. As I write, I’m sitting here eating my carrots and hummus, having had another good food day. Hunger and temptation is still there, but I am working through it. It just feels good to be going the right direction again. Rome wasn’t conquered in a day, and this weight wasn’t gained in a day. It takes 18 days to form a habit…I’d say I’m on the right track.