Small Strokes Big Oaks

This year – 2011, that is – I started by adopting a new mantra. In every situation that seemed really terrible, I’d ask myself, “What’s the worst that can happen?”

• If I don’t get these papers graded, what’s the worst that can happen? (The kids might ask me if I’ve graded them yet, or parents might ask me what’s taking me so long.)
• If I take this night off from copywriting for my second job, what’s the worst that can happen? (Maybe the work won’t get done by the deadline, but I already negotiated flexible deadlines with my employer because I have a full-time job, and he understands. So… nothing.)
• If I ask my employer (the copywriting one, not the teaching one) to reduce my work load, what’s the worst that can happen? (He can say no.)
• If I pitch this article to this awesome magazine, what’s the worst that can happen? (They can say no.)
• If I don’t write a blog post today, what’s the worst that can happen? (I might lose readers, but they were probably not that interested anyway if they drop me after one day of inactivity.)
• If I quit blogging, what’s the worst that can happen? (I might miss it.)
• If I don’t get to the gym today, what’s the worst that can happen? (Probably nothing. I might feel kind of gross the next day, but it takes some ridiculous amount of calories to even make a pound of fat on a human being, and the chances that I would consume that many extra calories in one day are slim – no pun intended.)
• If I gave up my gym membership, what’s the worst that can happen? (Again, probably nothing because I am an active person and don’t necessarily need a gym membership to stay fit.)

I could write an entire blog post about each one of these bullet points, but it’s the last two that have been haunting me for the past week or so, because it was the last two that were hardest for me to accept.

I have always gone to the gym almost every day. And if I didn’t go to the gym every day, I would beat myself up about it or guilt trip myself into doing some yoga late at night or an extra workout the next day to make up for lost time. To be honest, I actually liked going to the gym (most of the time). It was a time to collect my thoughts, blow off steam, be alone for even just an hour, and it made me feel really good to work up a sweat.

Then, I got married.

I didn’t want to lose weight before my wedding, but I wanted to look GOOD (duh) and getting myself to the gym was part of that. No matter how stressed out I was, no matter what wedding vendors I needed to meet with or which party I needed to attend, I had to get to the gym. And because it was becoming something I had to do rather than something I wanted to do, I hated every minute of it. Then, after the wedding, the pressure was on not to be that woman who gained 20 pounds in her first year of marriage. As you might expect, I hated going to the gym after the wedding, too, because, frankly, I could have cared less if I gained 20 pounds. All I really wanted was for people to stop talking about weight, and I wanted people to stop judging me for how much I gained or lost depending on my marital status. (People were probably not judging me, but when everyone you know has gotten married and is complaining about how much weight they’ve gained since the big day, it’s hard not to notice a pound or two on yourself, as well.)

Around this time, we adopted Penny, and I started walking outside more and I realized, Hey, this is fun! I should do this instead of go to the gym!  So I dropped my gym membership and made it a point to walk her a few miles every day. That was great. And then school started, which seriously diminished the time I had to go walking with her. But I kept it up as best I could, because the thought of going back to the gym was almost unbearable. And then we almost stopped walking her all together because of the rain and the early darkness and the fact that we both just get so busy in the year. For the past month, I have been taking her outside to do her business and then right back in, and I haven’t been making much of an effort to supplement that activity.

And what happened? Nothing. Not one single thing. My weight remained stable.

Of course, I felt lazy and lethargic, what with going from lots of activity to almost none, and I probably lost some muscle mass and gained some fat, which could account for the stable weight. But my clothes still fit, I didn’t gain copious amounts of weight like I was afraid would happen, and I wasn’t even watching what I ate.

However, it was this lazy and lethargic feeling – compounded by the onset of the holiday eating season – made me go back to the gym and get my membership back. I went on Friday, and again today and I feel awesome. But I’m back for the right reason – to feel good – and with a new outlook. After all, if I miss a day – or a week, or a month – what’s the worst that can happen?