"Sometimes, you just have to do what's good for you."
"Take the good with the bad. "
"A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down."
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
Don't you just hate these sayings? I know they're supposed to inspire and motivate you, but honestly, who wants to hear this when you're getting ready to do something you'd love to avoid? They make me want to throw a smarmy smile at the encourager along with a bottle of Flintstone vitamins.
I've claimed this year to be my "Get Healthy" year. I've also been talking it up - so others will keep me accountable - and telling myself how great I'm going to feel. A little voice inside I call "The Whiner" tells me to sit down and give it up, but I'm trying to ignore it. I'm desperate to convince myself that this will be fun, great, an adventure and it will have a BIG payoff. I believe in the payoff, but fun? Not so much.
I joined a fitness center. It's really more of a health and wellness center. I can handle that over the spandex clad gyms full of toned and flexing abs. Where I go, walkers are not people on a track as much as metal stabilizers with wheels. There are trainers who smile and look great, but they work alongside people who are aged, recovering from surgeries or are overweight. I fit right in on several levels! I'm not intimidated and so, although this gym is a good drive away, I'll go. Today, I'm suited up in my old workout clothes and comfortable shoes to meet with my trainer. That cute young thing will nudge me on the machines and cheer when I don't wheeze. I'll go because it's good for me. And I'm telling The Whiner to take a nap.
That's the part of today that fits into the Just Get It Over With section. Later this afternoon, I'll reward myself with a trip to my salon. Not for pampering or nail polish, but for an "out there, go for it, I'm not such an old lady" adventure. I'm meeting my 27 year old daughter and we're getting feathers! If you're thinking Big Bird, you are soooo uncool. I'm talking about the new fad of putting a thin, discrete, colored feather tucked into your own hair. Right now, I'm going with blue (to match my exercise bruises.) Hey - they're removable unlike tattoos (which I detest). It's the end of a long hot summer, it's something unexpected on a mom over 50, and it's harmless fun. Why not? And who knows, when I look in the mirror, The Whiner might even smile!