Health was one of the first things to go when Dylan got sick. But this is not going to be a poor-me post about how hard it was (for me) for Dylan to be sick. He is doing really well in the UK – maybe it’s the cleaner air, maybe it’s the calmer mum. I don’t know. What I do know is that it it now time to move out of crisis-mode. We are no longer in crisis. Praised be the Lord.
Jacinta, in her former life, was a health & fitness enthusiast. She danced ballet 7 days a week during her Uni years (would have made sense to just study it, but she didn’t really understand that was an option until too late), she taught creative movement as her first job out of Uni, then qualified as a Personal Trainer & Group Fitness Instructor, then Pilates instructor, then opened a dance studio, then trained for a marathon, then went a bit nuts and needed some time out from everything. She sat on the bench of life feeling metaphorical, lamenting the side-effects of the assortment of medicine she needed to take, eventually she got off it all, joined a fancy gym, studied up on nutrition and the use of food as medicine. She got super fit and mentally stable, and then she got pregnant with baby no.1.
From that point all attempts to regain former glory fell short. Don’t even get her started on how tough it got once baby no.2 got sick. Or how yummy all forms of calorie became. Very few people she has met in the past four years know the Jacinta who used to care about health and fitness. She feels sad about this, and after some soul searching has come to accept that the best course of action would be to deal with things head on, and that means dropping the rather tiresome third-person approach to the problem.
Yes, it’s the start of the new year, and this is the time a huge number of chubbsters across the first-world start thinking about their fitness. I will join their ranks. I am no longer fit or smug enough to judge. I suppose that’s a good thing.
The beauty of writing is that you can tell the story any the hell way you want. But I am into the non-fiction stuff, to a degree. At least to the point that I reckon if I’m going to tweak the story to the point that I don’t look too bad at all, then what’s the point? I think it’s the honest truth that will be most helpful, in this specific case anyway.
(At this point Jacinta’s husband walks into the kitchen and asks what Jacinta is doing. “Writing for fun” she replies. He drops the questioning at that and asks “Shall we make one of these Angel Delights?” They were bought to put in a care package to send to an expat Brit. They are not part of Jacinta’s current eating plan. It is hard work for Jacinta to be Jacinta. Since she is writing on this very topic at this very time she has chosen to rise above it all).
Here and now, today, I am not happy with my current physical state.
– I would estimate I am 20lbs over my ideal body weight.
– My skin has been constantly badly blemished for about 24 months now.
– I got a really stupid stress-related haircut last year (you know, the drastic sort that you secretly believe will dramatically improve your life), and am still working through the aftermath (it was really bad, the hairdresser actually said “there, now you look like Rhianna!” As if that would be a good thing for me. For her it’s great but for me, not so much. Coincidentally my Welsh middle name is Rhiannon).
– I am tired all day every day.
– Each attempt to get back into a workout routine has left me utterly exhausted and needing a minimum of three weeks’ recovery.
– I am unhappy with my appearance and often revert to dressing to hide myself rather than wearing what I like. To add insult to injury I have been interviewed and professionally photographed for work-related things twice in the past two years.
Where I am now is at the point of being serious about making changes and this is what I’ve been thinking about lately:
– No matter how much I wish it weren’t so, I cannot simply do what used to work for me and expect it to work for me now. My body has changed and now that I’m older and have had babies, I can’t just throw myself into an insanely intensive exercise programme without hurting something. I need to start gently.
– I need to approach this holistically. The best season of super-fitness I have experienced was the one just before I fell pregnant the first time. I was practicing what I had learnt about nutrition, I was exercising regularly, I was looking after my spiritual health, and I was hitting a good balance with my social life (I’m usually pendulum swinging between extreme hermit-like solitude and being out every single night of the week).
I am going to stop there for tonight. I have want to discuss the infamous Maria Kang picture in a separate post but not time to write about that now. Just want to get this one out first in a throwing-the-gauntlet-down sort of way. I’m pumped. Mentally, not yet physically. Here we go!