Weighty Matters

I didn’t have Tai Chi class this morning so I made plans to try a regular Zumba class at 9 a.m.  You might remember that on Memorial Day I went to Zumba Gold, which is supposed to be a little less intense and geared to the over 50 crowd.   Six weeks ago, I was delighted that I managed to keep up with the quick pace and maintain the movement for the full hour.  I’d hoped that the place I went to would soon add some ZG classes in the evenings so that I could go a couple of times a week.

That hasn’t been able to happen yet.  I’ve been feeling the need to step up my exercise routine.  Yes, I’ve been as diligent as possible with my water exercises, as well as doing my in-home DVDs.  However, I still feel like I haven’t progressed as far as I should with the exercise part of my recovery plan.  I decided to check out the regular intensity Zumba.   After all, what was the worst that could happen?  I flail around in back out of synch but keep moving?  Well, I guess that the worse that could happen is that I pass out and die, but why be negative?

I suited up in comfy shorts and picked a Bruce Springsteen t-shirt to wear for inspiration.  I figure if the Boss can rock out a full concert for three hours at age 62, I could last an hour mixing dancing and exercise.  I slipped on my new sneakers, grabbed a bottle a water and headed out.

They had a full turn out this morning.   Several women I know arrived for the class and warmly welcomed me.  Pretty much all of them gave me the same advice.  “Even if you mess up the steps, just keep moving.  Just keep moving.”

That’s what I did.  Through mambos and traveling steps, squats, lunges, kicks and all of the rest, I just kept moving.  To my complete surprise, I actually kept up with the class through all of the songs. Did I do every step and move perfectly?  Oh heck no, but I kept moving with a high level of energy.   I boosted my heart rate and worked up a sweat with the best of them.

By the time the hour was over, my body knew it had worked.  I felt terrific!  I’ve already decided to go again on Tuesday after work for another class.   Looking at their schedule, I know I can make a class on Tuesdays and alternate Thursdays.   This schedule will go a long way toward advancing my overall exercise commitment.   The cardio routine will do great things for my heart.  Burning off calories is an added benefit.

I could have waited to see if they scheduled an evening Gold class.  I could have delayed until I’ve lost even more weight.  I’m glad that I went in with the attitude that I’d give it a shot and see what happened.  This was far more positive than letting fear of failure keep me stuck.   Successfully working out in a regular Zumba class provided a terrific boost and I’d never have known I could do it, had I not tried!

I’ve mentioned before that being extremely overweight causes one to be hyperaware of size and surroundings.  For years, I didn’t sit in a chair without first mentally assessing whether it would bear my weight.  In restaurants or large conference halls where tables and chairs are often close together, I’d worry that there wouldn’t be enough room for me to walk between tables without bumping into people or having to ask someone to pull themselves closer to their own tables.

I could list a dozen other examples.  Let me tell you, this constant state of hyperawareness of my size created a lot of stress and tension.

I’m still a larger woman, but I’m a lot less large than I used to be.  I wish I’d lost as much of the hyperawareness, but it’s still present.  However, I’m retraining myself one circumstance at a time.   Whenever I encounter a situation where my body fits better, I take the time to really acknowledge that it’s happened.  I note how it feels.  Doing this not only reduces fear and tension, it also creates smiles and happiness.

When I first went out on my boat, I’d already lost a good chunk of weight.  I could definitely feel the difference just in swinging my leg over the gunwhale.  Then I sat in my captain’s seat and looked at how much more space existed between my stomach and the steering wheel.

The other night while sat at the bar (on a high stool that I was able to much more easily boost myself up on) with my friends, the rest of the restaurant filled up.  When we turned to leave, I had a moment of sharp concern that there wouldn’t be enough room in between the different parties for me to navigate gracefully through the room.  I paused and studied the open space, then had to deliberately remind myself that I am physically smaller than I was months ago.  Maybe at my largest weight I would have had difficulty.   Now, even if some of the spaces were a little tight, they weren’t too tight for me to glide through.

Earlier this evening I drove to a local restaurant to meet friends.  Most of the parking spaces in the lot were already filled except for one between a small sedan and a larger truck.  I figured out that if I pulled in slowly and adjusted, I could fit my SUV in that space, but I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to then open my car door wide enough to exit without having to squeeeeeeeze out.  Six months ago, it would have been a very tight fit and I don’t think I would have succeeded.  Tonight it was still a tight fit, but my body didn’t rub against any part of my car as I got out.  I walked out smiling.

Each one of these examples stands as an NSV.  They also help me rewire my thought patterns.  Each time I fit into or through a smaller space, or sit in a different chair and know that it’s strong enough to hold me, I make a little more progress retraining my perception of my own size.  That, my friends, is truly fitting.