Starting Over ~ Fingers on the Keyboard

FORGET THE FINGERS ON THE KEYBOARD, WE NEED FEET ON THE TREADMILL!

Oh my, oh my. Look what happened when we were looking somewhere else. When we were focusing on stories and blogs and books. When we sat at a desk in an office building or home office. As we earned our living, we didn’t notice the tiny insignificant half-pound that found a home with us. With us? Hell, it found a home ON us…every year for quite a while. When did Size 10 get to be Size 12?  Could our clothes have shrunk THAT much in the dryer?

Many of us, especially the ones who spent our working lives behind a desk, are not alone in this less than joyful discovery. I’m sorry to say that we might have an affliction called T.M.T. which stands for Too. Much. Tush..That’s right. We have too much tush and not enough svelte.

Yes, I know we “clean up” well. We look darn good right after the hair dresser gets finished with us. Not to mention the great mani-pedi with the endless choice of reds, pinks, blues and greens for our fingers and toes. I even saw yellow on the rack, but I noticed no one chose it. We can feel like a million bucks after all that. But my friends, that’s because we’re focusing on the positive and ignoring the negative when, in this case, we should be doing both. Too. Much. Tush. is not a good thing for either our self-image or our health.

My friend and award winning author, Barbara Keiler, loves to run. She runs miles every morning

Barbara Keiler, my friend who runs and writes.

. Every. Single. Day. She lives in New England with many months of lousy weather, but she simply dresses appropriately and sets out–often with camera in hand. I know Barbara for many years and she’s been running for as long as I know her. She is petite in every way but one: her mind is super-sized. She doesn’t worry about T.M.T.

Preventing T.M.T. is why Debra Salonen, another award winning writer friend, (also an On Fire Fiction author) hikes for miles in her California mountains. I never know exactly where she is, but she always posts pictures of herself and family on these jaunts. In addition, she practices Yoga. I don’t know what kind, but she’s loyal to it. She changed her food choices a couple of years ago and lost fifteen pounds. The weight’s remained off. She looks and feels terrific. More important, she is healthy.

Deb Salonen
Yoga, anyone?

I suppose when you’re a full-time writer, you might notice the sedentary nature of your job more quickly than, say, a teacher who’s up from her desk and walking a lot during the day. Or a waitress, who’s always on the go.  Of course, with that reasoning, all teachers and all waitresses should be thin. Are they?

Before I became a full-time writer, I managed an adult education program and taught classes there as well. I was always on the go, interacting with students, teaching a half-dozen subjects including role playing job interviews, or I was running from one classroom to another, checking in with the staff. I loved that job. Loved the activity and quiet time mix, and loved the students’ successes. So being a writer and sitting behind the computer all day made me antsy. Even talking with all the characters in my head couldn’t change the reality of sitting in  the chair.

I joined a gym. An air-conditioned gym. Okay, confession time. I am a princess who likes to be active but doesn’t like to sweat. Yeah, I know. I’m weird and you can laugh. But sweating makes me itch. So the a/c is a must. For years, I took low-impact aerobics classes three times a week. When we moved to Houston, the classes were not convenient, but I began using the resistance machines. Mike and I also walked two miles every night until it became too hot, and my hands swelled. Houston=hot and humid, and I’m a princess. It was then I discovered the treadmill. Inside the air-conditioned gym.

I want to remain as healthy as possible for as long as possible. Living a sedentary life will prevent me from achieving that goal. I don’t claim to be a doctor, but I read. I listen. I watch. I’ve had health issues in the past, a practice run on how it feels to be incapacitated. To have no strength. To be dependent on others. I didn’t like it. I wanted my vitality back. I wanted my health back. I’d rather take care of myself.  Call me Princess Leia.  

There’s a gym in the day camp where I live now in Florida. It has several treadmills and I’m on one of them almost every day. Using a treadmill is boring. But there’s a television on the wall right in front of them with closed captions. I haven’t stopped running since I got here. No sweat.