Start Where You Are

Did you know that I'm an athlete? No, really. I am. I love being active. I have always enjoyed hiking, running, volleyball, front yard football, swimming, tennis... but not baseball. Well, let me rephrase. I enjoy baseball. I just completely and utterly suck at it. That whole "keep your eye on the ball" thing never seemed to click with me. I wanted to be good at it. I really did. But I'm not. And probably never will be.

Anyway, point being, I love all those things. I love being active. I love working out. Seriously, I do. It's disgusting, I know. So what's the problem?? Excuses. I have a whole list of them. Here are a few of my favorites:

• I can't do what you used to. I'm too out of shape/fat.
• I'll make a complete fool out of myself huffing and puffing in front of everyone.
• I don't have the equipment I need.
• It's too hot.
• It's too cold.
• It's too early.
• It's too late.
• I'm too tired.
• Today is too busy.
• I don't want to do it by myself.
• I don't feel super great. (NOTE: This refers to the excuse, not legitimate illness!)
• I'll have to find a way to drag all the kids along.
• We can't really afford the gym membership.
• I can always do that tomorrow.

I could individually debunk each of those, but that one quote posted in the photo above handles it all. Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can. Some days that comes so easily. Some days it doesn't. The bottom line is, there have been days that every single excuse, whether I considered it legitimate in my head or not, popped up at some point in the day. But the only way that I am going to reach my goals is if I suck it up, push through those excuses, and put my health at the top of my list of priorities. 

Today, around noon or so, I decided I needed to get myself moving. My husband was at work. My littlest was napping. It was HOT and the middle of the day, when it is only going to get hotter. I was on a time crunch because of things scheduled for the evening. I wanted to go running. I love to run, but I absolutely can't run. So what did I do? I got the jogging stroller out of the storage building. I had my older two get ready. I got myself ready. And when my little woke up from his nap, we piled out of the door and started down the road. Literally. 

I ran the Nike Runkeeper app on my iPhone. We got about ten steps out the front door and my oldest started commenting on how hot it was. We barely made it out of the yard before the middle started complaining about how he didn't want to do this. Within 0.3 of a mile, he was in a full meltdown, complete with screaming, crying, coughing, gagging, and threats of throwing up and passing out. By half a mile, he had completely stopped and was standing in the middle of the road screaming that he wasn't going another step. At 0.8 of a mile, I told him we were almost to the end and ready to go back, while he trailed behind me continuing to wail about how miserable he was. At 1.0 miles, I turned around and started back towards home, and him, since he had stopped and sat down on the side of the road crying just shy of 0.8 of a mile. When I went past him and didn't acknowledge his begging to "please stop and take a break" so he could recover from his dire illness, a new, even louder onslaught of wailing began. My oldest now joined in the fun, by complaining about his complaints. 

I'm pretty sure that at this point, all animals within a 20 mile radius scattered out of sheer fear, and some family 15 miles away considered calling 911 to report the severe abuse of a child somewhere. I can almost imagine the call. "I don't know what they're doing to that baby, but all I know is I hear screaming. Lots of screaming. Maybe even gnashing of teeth. Come quick. Hell has been unleashed on a child somewhere near to here." At 1.6 miles, a car drove past. I could feel the sting of the driver's glare through the rear view mirror as she drove past and witnessed the continuing screamfest that my six year old was unleashing. My oldest continued to complain about the whining and wailing going on behind me. At 1.7 miles, said child professed this was the dumbest thing ever, and he was never walking again. Ever. At 1.9 miles, our springer spaniel greeted the screaming child with concern, and was completely in his way in her attempt to console him. He was not amused. At 2.0 miles, my front porch was greeted with shouts of, "OH THANK GOD!!!" and my middle child promptly disappeared through the front door. We didn't see, nor did we hear anything out of him for the next hour. He then appeared, and requested a bath. He spent two hours, yes you read that correctly, in the bath. I had to force his happy, chattering self out. After all, he needed to relax after all that running. 

The end result of the day? I had a million reasons not to go. Once I started out the door, that million grew to an infinite number. I had every reason to throw my hands in the air and throw in the towel. But I didn't. I pushed my little in a jogging stroller down the country road near my home while my middle child wailed and my oldest complained about the wailing. For two miles. Did I make brag-worthy time? Hell no. In fact, the entire round trip of two miles took a grand total of 40 minutes. But, I burned just over 400 calories, which is precisely just over 400 more than I would have burned sitting on my butt in my house. Was it stressful? A little. But it was also a little comical, truthfully. And I feel soooo accomplished after doing it. Would I do it again? ABSOLUTELY. 

Besides, it should be interesting to see how the middle will manage it next time... since he's not walking anymore and all.