When the Fault Lies in Myself, All That's Left is to Walk

The morning air has a hint of cool. I don’t know if that means the driest and hottest parts of summer are over, but the slight breeze felt wonderful when I walked the garbage to the curb. I took a long draw into my lungs. The blend of the oxygen with tinges of a temp similar to that in the main part of the refrigerator made me want to walk to the park. Then, a thought of work, and some other feeling deep, deep inside, somewhere beyond my conscious will, prodded me to walk back into the house. 

I might have forgotten about the experience, even though the failure to launch to exercise has happened a lot since December. Before that, there were times when I walked as much as four or five miles in a day. That was when I a cardiologist joined my squad of doctors.Afterwards, I walked to the park a couple of times. Then, I stopped.  I cannot tie the two together - heart problems and a lack of desire to even take a short walk.

The look on his face matches mine at the thought of a workout. 

Anyway, I briefly kicked the question around in my head until I found an article, “Five Exercise Myths that are Holding You Back.” The story inspired me to do what I usually do when I cannot work through a problem - write through the confusion.
As many people these days, I thought there was somewhere other than my own free will to place the blame.

 Whoa! I told myself. See, the fact that you won’t get up and move around outside the house is not your fault. There is some unseen power that binds you to the easy chair.

Things got better when I glanced at the short feature's last paragraph. "Physical activity is important for everyone, but it can be tough to get started," the author wrote. Ahah! I said to myself. A sympathetic voice. Then, my fantasy crashed. The next line explained that you have to workout nonetheless. "Run with it!" the author wrote.

Yikes! The writer used the "R" word. I haven't run in twenty years.

For not even sixty seconds, my mind drifted to a recent cartoon photo I saw. Bob from the Minions stood surprised. The caption exclaimed, "Exercise? I thought you said, French Fries!"

Anyway, I glanced a second time at the article. The expression on the kid about to lift weights in the photo above matched the feeling in my heart. 

Oh...man!  I  said to myself in that sort of long low whine I get when I know I am wrong. Then I went all Shakespeare on myself. The fault lies in myself, not in my stars. In other words, short of some specific revelation that God wants me welded to an easy chair for my final years on Earth, I have not one reason to give up on exercise. In fact, the article states that no one has an excuse anymore. 

By the way, one of the myths that hold people back is a lack of time. The writer says "fagettaboutit!" and offers suggestions on a 10- or 20-minute intense workout. According to the article this type of exercise is the current rage. Well, that is not for me. You have to be in great shape to do those kinds of workouts. Then again, even as I write those words, I wonder whether its a "chicken and the egg" conundrum - you have to be in great shape for a high intensity workout, but extreme exercise might put you in better shape. Anyway, none of that is outside my realm. Remember, I can barely work up the will to stand.

Last week, I got a doctor's permission to use the exercise room at a senior center. They have treadmills. I was enthusiastic until the time came to go to orientation. I passed, and felt kind of bad about the lack of fortitude, until I saw what the "Five Myths" article said about calories and treadmills. Ok, I thought. I can do that. You know, walk and burn calories by the basket full. I was almost mentally out of the chair when I read, "Everyone burns different amounts of calories, depending on body weight, metabolism and effort expended. There is no one-size-fits-all 400 calorie workout."

You might as well go back to walking in your neighborhood, I told myself. An indoor treadmill is a blessing for rainy days, but it is not a magic carpet.

In the end, I guess the article does not have what I sought - a place to keep hiding from the steady, one-foot-in-front-of-the-other grind that comes with some form of daily exercise. The next orientation session at the senior center is on Wednesday. I might go this time. The odds are pretty good that later today I might walk to the park.

The Art of the Lesson

The morning walk was largely uneventful on the surface, because the most marvelous things happened inside me. I learned that more than one morning is going to begin with an overwhelming apathy and weakness. By the time I finished my course, the reason was clear. As William Arthur Ward, the inspirational author, once said, "Learning is more than absorbing facts, it is acquiring understanding." 

There are many mornings when I awake refreshed but in searing pain. Today was one, I figured because the temperature at around 6 a.m., was about 56 degrees. The pain level in the knees was at ten. That is how they often respond to the cold. I felt drained of energy. I blamed that on the rigorous events of the past weekend. I searched my mind for a couple of times for convenient-yet-convictioned excuses not to make the rounds. There were none.

I moaned and grumbled through the pain to pull on long johns, knee wraps, sweat pants, a T-shirt, and fleece jacket, then moved downstairs for the trek. I grabbed my water bottle and went into

the chilled morning air. There was almost no breeze. The air felt fresh. Although my legs moved as if each foot was bound in cement, I began the walk.

I won't make my movements into any special drama. They happen every day with various versions of the same pain. In fact, the only outwardly remarkable fact during this morning's walk was the absence of other joggers and walkers.  I was almost alone around the circuit. There were only two of the regulars.

Inside my chest were peculiar rumblings. I felt out of breath a couple of times, but pushed the weakness aside with concentration on the steps. It is important to listen to your body during exercise, yet you should not baby yourself. Every pinch, pull and wheeze carries clues about the nature of one's health. I logged each one, but remained determined. 

When the interruption came near breathlessness, I took a swig of water, and the symptoms subsided. When the knee pain climbed a notch, I focused more on the goal - the midway point - a bench outside the local Starbucks. I made it, and took a pause.

Homeward, on the second leg of the walk, the pace was really slow. At times I labored to take a step. I gave myself a rule - don't stop. One foot in front of the other, my eyes on the greenery, ponds, wild birds and bright sun. The house's front door hung in the back of my mind. 

The trick worked, but the energy levels continued to drop. I felt the breathlessness. Lola, my inner voice told me to take the short cut to my street, because I was likely to pass out. I argued with her. She gently repeated the advice. I focused on the way the sun bounced off the empty sidewalks and glistened against the pond. The environs became a haze more than an image. Lola won.

Well, I made it to the front door of my house, none the worse for the trial. I reflected on the incident, yet the cause was not clear.

After about ten minutes, I said, "I need to eat." I did not feel hungry, yet the thought uncharacteristically blunt. My tone held a tinge of desperation. I ate and recovered.

At times, we all have to pass through an experience and reflect, which is the real art of the lesson. Learning comes from reflection. Understanding comes with application. 

Mine was that I should check my blood glucose levels before exercise. I know. That is Diabetes101. I am normally so in control of the disease, my sugar level would have been my last choice as a source for a problem. 

As Ward stated, this little tale is about experience and understanding.  Take the story as a primer on how to learn about yourself. Consider the many signs inside and outside that the body offers during the day. Think about how often you pass up a chance to learn. Reflection on experiences can be a great teacher, unless you are afraid to understand.