Just Do It

It’s amazing how apathetic one can become after such an amazing year.

In 2006, in case you all aren’t aware, I lost over 86 pounds. It was amazing! I learned to bike, run, swim and made new friends. I did triathlons, endurance runs, endurance bike rides. And I loved every minute of it!

Then something happened. I grew disinterested. I started missing workouts. Occasionally I’d get a little “verve” back, but it just wouldn’t last. Where was my excitement? My passion? I struggled through November and December, gaining weight, missing workouts and always looking and struggling for that lost excitement.

In January things got really bad. I began to despair that I’d never feel excited about working out again. I was getting irritable and started to cry a lot.

My friends were wonderful. Jessica sent me an email: “Whenever and wherever you want, Regan, I’ll be there.” Heaven! Danielle started biking with me on Sundays and Monday mornings as the only thing that seemed to elicit any sort of yearning was getting on Joyous, my bike. Lewis, my husband, started biking with me on the weekend as well as we prepared for Chilly Hilly (and eventually Seattle to Portland (STP)).

Then Chilly Hilly came. I felt good – confident. Even though I had gotten sick a few days before, I woke up that morning with some of my old excitement and a good sense of well being. While the trip was marred slightly by Danielle and her husband missing the ferry (I missed her!), I felt good on the whole ride. Strong. I biked 33 miles and walked a lot of the hills, but knew I was giving it my best and solid shot (Lewis was amazing – what a trooper!).

And then I crashed. Literally and figuratively. I fell off my bike at the end – nothing traumatic. I got back up with just a sore hip and bruised knee. But it took the wind out. Standing in line for the ferry, my voice started to leave me. I started to shiver. I got ill – an illness I still haven’t shaken!

And I stopped exercising. It all seemed to not matter. Nothing seemed to matter. I would wake up in the morning and think “Should I go for a run?” Eh. “Do you want a shake or a cookie for breakfast?” Eh. Nothing. Just….”Eh.” The only thing that seemed to motivate me even a little was Max – you just can’t contain 22 months of pure energy. Walks to the parks to let him run around were nice; but uninspiring.

But I wasn’t completely unmotivated. I mean, I *knew* something was wrong. I went on Zoloft (an anti-depressant) and starting seeing a new counselor.

And that’s where I am now. But something happened in counseling yesterday, that, in a round about way, I’m trying to communicate here.

One part of my personality makeup is that I love new and creative things. The more I have to learn and the newness of it, the longer I stay interested (when I say “creative” I mean more in the vein of “creating”). I know a thousand crafts. I can wood turn, lampwork (glass bead making), quilt, knit, and a thousand others. I’ve loved them all. But after awhile, just like the exercise, I stop. I get disinterested. I look for the next adrenaline rush – the next scoop of excitement that says “This is interesting! Do this!” A Jack of all Trades; Master of none.

And when it comes to loosing weight last year it was all new and amazing. To learn how to love bike riding. To learn how a Triathlon works. To learn what my body could do. I was in a state of passion and grace.

I asked my husband the other night what he thought my strengths were. Lewis is so awesome – he never gives an off the cuff answer. He ponders carefully and replies with due respect. Here’s what he listed:

· Optimistic nature – see things with a can-do attitude
· Crafting abilities – i.e. I can make things
· Interested in trying new things out
· People skills

Then I asked him what my weaknesses were. He came up with one:

· I don’t follow through.

Bullseye.

Communicating all of this with my counselor (a veteran of loosing 100 pounds herself) and some lights came on. She understood what was happening and it came down to this: Just do it. “I hate to go Nike on you,” she said, “but, Regan: Just do it.”

I didn’t understand. And she explained. Just because I don’t get an adrenaline rush off of exercise doesn’t mean I can’t do it. I’m an adrenaline junky. And my body is tired of producing it. It can’t keep up. No one can keep up the 110% of effort and excitement that I put forth last summer. But I don’t have to have adrenaline to do what I need to do. I just have to do it.

And, she said, I’ve come to an important crossroads. Even as apathetic as I feel, I’ve also come to a point of surrender. Realizing that I want a healthy lifestyle means that I must eat healthy and exercise daily. Period. I don’t have to get excited about it. It just is.

So today I ran. For the first time in about three weeks. I did it. It wasn’t exciting. I was glad I did it, for sure, but I didn’t feel anything exciting. I kept it aerobic but didn’t push like I normally would. I was grateful I could still run for an hour. I ran around the neighborhood in the pouring rain with the dogs. I can’t seem to get excited about it, but I didn’t hate it.

So that’s it. Just do it. I just finished my 20/20 shake. At around 10:30 I’ll have a snack. One step at a time. Do what I know how to do. I don’t have to get excited that I’m eating a vegetable soup for lunch. I just gotta do it. Like housework for a clean house. If I want it, I just gotta do it.

Hugs,

Regan