87 days to go.

I didn’t want any of you to think I was a quitter. I have not quit. I have been a bit of a slacker at keeping up with these posts. Lots of changes around here lately and I’ve found myself trying to find the balance again. I’ll try to be more diligent. We were all sick here the past few days and that doesn’t help matters. But balance will come.

I ignored my body for a long time; never listening to what it has to say to me, I have pushed it to limits that I shouldn’t have. I lived with so much anxiety and stress that prior to this past year, I truly cannot recall a time when I didn’t have fear (combination of anxiety and stress) living in my chest. I suppose when I was a child there were times, but even then I can remember I felt that way on occasion. So conservatively, I’d say just shy of 40 years of being afraid is not an inaccurate assessment.

The reason I’m telling you this is to explain that sometimes what we live with becomes our normal when we should be trying to rid ourselves of that thing. No matter the changes in my life over those years (location, occupation, people), I took that fear with me. Sometimes I still get a glimpse of that feeling and I have to talk myself down and get grounded again. (If you are in that kind of place, I understand. It might be irrational, but it is real. Eventually you might be able to work yourself out of that place, but you may need help. If you would like some advice or a recommendation, send me an email: WendyJHopkins@gmail.com. It’s entirely confidential.)

What I didn’t understand was that exercise and anxiety have polarity. Like two opposite ends of a couple of magnets, they cannot seem to occupy the same space at the same time. I remember exercising during those years, but not concentrating. I made my body go through motions that imitated exercise, but didn’t focus on whether the muscle was actually working. I’d get on a treadmill or elliptical and focus on the time; how long was I on. That’s from fear, too; afraid I should be doing something else instead of what I was doing. It seems I was always in a rush as if checking things off a list was progress. Sometimes I still get that way. So silly to think about it now, but truly, I was not well.

My point is that real exercise is a stress reliever. Making your mind pay attention to what you are doing; focusing on each muscle as you use it; listening to your heartbeat; controlling your breathing; these things are a kind of meditation.

Try that next time you stretch, for instance. Pay attention to which muscle you are stretching and how that feels. If it hurts a bit, instead of easing up on the muscle, try using your breath to relax it; change how you’re breathing. Experiment with finding out how your body works, what the best way is for you to become what you want.

I’m still trying to figure me out …and you know it’s an adventure.

(The title: Operation Lard Bucket refers to NOT BEING LAZY. It has nothing whatsoever to do with being FAT. It is my title. I know what it means. You don’t have to like it.)