Yesterday I awoke ready, ready to go, ready to work, ready to exercise. But as it's liable to do, the universe threw me a curve ball. A storm brewed outside with pouring rain and a chill in the air.
So I decided not to walk outside, and I wound up reading a bit before getting dressed. I decided to exercise in the afternoon, but a looming storm and rain deterred me there too.
I determined that jumping jacks would be the exercise routine for the night. One of my Facebook friends said that she heard doing 200 jumping jacks a day would really slim your stomach and waist (not sure whether or not she was kidding).
After hours of procrastination I finally started my exercise routine with a few stretches, but when I started the jumping jacks I got a huge and unhappy surprise. I could barely jump. I just couldn't seem to lift my body off the ground.
I had the same problem near the end of last week when I tried to run. What a disappointing experience. It made me long for my old, pre-fat body, but all things in time. This experience also helped me to discover that I must be vigilant about my diet. In my zeal to eat healthy I have been adding more fruits and more vegetables, but the foods I've been eating have less protein.
It occurred to me that it had been almost two weeks since I'd eaten meat, and I hadn't eaten many animal products. Vegans get away with this, but a vegan diet is a balancing act. Vegans have to plan diligently to ensure that they get enough protein, because the body needs protein for energy and muscle.
All this interest in the affairs of the body and my near obsession with weight loss (don't worry, I said NEAR obsession) has reminded me of how important it is to feed and nurture my spirit. Honestly, I've forgotten to do that at times, because I can't look in the mirror and see a sagging spirit, a puffy soul, a wrinkly disposition.
How many laps can my spirit fly and how many days of grueling exercise would it take to shape up my soul?
Change doesn't come easy. When I started this blog I thought the process would be much easier. I would be the Samantha Stevens of change. I'd twitch my little nose and be off and running on the track, hip hop dancing my stomach away, writing music and prose like some twenty-first century combination of Beethoven and Ernest Hemingway.
But don't count me out yet. I'm working on music as we speak, and I'm about to start sketching novel ideas.
Stay tuned. And if you have a story about how you changed your life (or how you want to), let's talk.
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