I’m about to get on my elliptical trainer for the third time this week. Look, I’m not expecting you bring out the round of applause or get up from your computer or desk or couch to give me a standing ovation. But you just have to know that this is a big deal for me. I don’t know if you remember, but last week I started complaining of headaches. Well, they weren’t so much headaches as they were FACEACHES, if such a word were to exist.
The pain and pressure would start in between my eyes and then radiates down my cheeks all the way to my ears. It was awesome. I saw my eye doctor, hoping it was my eyes (It wasn’t) and then I saw my family doctor (who actually isn’t my family doctor but is a friend and a doctor and he is perfectly happy to take my health card and get paid to see me when I fall down the stairs and get giant hematomas or when I am certain my face is going to melt right off my bones) who did some xrays and tests and asked me a lot of questions and while we didn’t get to the root of the faceache problem, but we did discover something else. Slightly elevated blood pressure. It was not elevated enough to treat or really to even get super concerned about, but considering my background and my genetics, it’s certainly something a wee bit alarming and something I want to keep an eye on.
So, I’m watching my salts and exercising.
I am notorious for never finishing anything I start, and exercise routines are no exception. I have joined the gym at least a half a dozen times, and quit the gym at least that many times. I did the 18-day Shred. I started running. And then I quit running. And then I started running again and I even almost ran a half-marathon – I was signed up and got a t-shirt and everything! – but then I destroyed my heels and there was a tremendous amount of pain and bleeding and, once again, there was some quitting on my part.
But now it seems like I don’t really have a choice. Quitting is not an option. So, I’m starting small – 35 minutes on the elliptical while I listen and attempt to sing Glee songs while I huff and puff and sweat. I have often heard from people that they get addicted to exercising. I would love for that to happen to me. I get addicted to things like coffee and Girl Scout cookies and Jon Hamm and buying cardigans and watching bad reality tv. Why can’t I be one of those people who gets addicted to things that are actually good for you? HUH? Why do I loathe exercising so much? I guess the good thing right now is that I’m not really in it to lose weight (HELL, if some shedding of my muffin top comes along with this project, I’ll take it, gladly!) but it’s not about weight or pounds or inches.
It’s about my heart.
And when a medical professional looks you in the eye and says, “Your pressure is a lot higher than I’d like,” it’s like a giant kick in the lazy ass. And it was almost like in that moment, things started to change, right then and there. I swear. I was feeling STRESS about my faceaches and my job situation and money and maybe/possibly/probably switching my children from private to public school and when in the heck is the warm weather going to get here and my van breaking three times in one week and finding Emily an agent and my sister moving to Australia and Isabella being a total beast at bedtime and, well, just about everything.
Stress seems to be a dirty word. I hate it. I don’t want it.
So I am shedding the stress from my life. I am feeling positive. Things are going to work out. My head is going to be fine. My job situation is going to be fine. The decisions I make about school are going to be the right ones. Spring will come. We will find Emily an agent. Isabella will one day go to bed easily.
I will learn to love exercise.
It’s a new day for me.
I even got myself a new haircut. FINALLY.
…and it’s not even orange or anything!