Sweating Through the Small Stuff
From Couch to 5K, The Beer Cooler to the Hot Yoga Studio
“I’m debating going for a run,” I said in the early afternoon on a Tuesday in response to the frequent question my husband asks when I’m milling about the kitchen looking antsy, but not doing anything.
“Whatcha doin’, babes?”
“I’m debating going for a run.”
“Interesting,” he said.
To be honest, I’ve been debating it for months.
I’ve gained weight. Not a lot, but as a lifelong body image-conscious person, it’s enough to bother me. I’ve had more than usual bad-day-fueled-f*&k-it-meals, and the same amount of sleep-in-skip-gym-days that add up to ++ LBs, albeit some more zzzzzs. NYC is heading into the 90s next week, we need to open the pool, and bathing suit season is in effect.
Later this summer, my family is renting a house in Outer Banks, NC, resuming a tradition started a decade ago. Saturday to Saturday of cooking, drinking, poolside/beach hangs, plus the constant cleaning of dishes, and recycling of beer bottles.
My sister, Aja, and I used to run a couple of miles each morning in the balmy heat and finish at the Harris Teeter’s walk-in beer cooler to regulate our body temperature. Humidity is THICK in the OBX.
A couple of times, we signed up for a local 5K fun run that happens every Wednesday at a local park. Two weeks ago, Aja texted me, “We should run it again.”
Today was going to be the day. I was going for a run.
I used to run a lot. Not fast, but a lot. Annual half marathons, running challenges with colleagues, six to twelve miles over the Brooklyn Bridge up to Park Slope, around Prospect Park, and back… a lot.
In 2020, I was training for the Brooklyn Half, which never happened. I moved in with my boyfriend out on Long Island to escape the city during the pandemic. I didn’t bother continuing with my long runs since the race was cancelled, and over the past few years, my mileage dwindled to zero. I still go to the gym and work out, but it’s not the same.
But
Aja had laid the gauntlet down
I have a hard time saying no to challenges, and
I’ve been missing how much more my old/younger body could do.
A trifecta of reasons to race again.
Where the hell do you start when starting from scratch? I’ve always heard of beginners using the Couch to 5K program. A progressive interval-based schedule that prepares you for a 5k in eight weeks. I am a bit ashamed that it’s come to this, but it is a safe, proven and unaggressive way to kick myself in the butt. Shame only keeps me on the couch and in the house.
As of yesterday, I’m three of twenty-four runs in and I feel OK about it. My legs are tired at the end of the day, and I’m pushing my lungs again. I watch every step I take during the running segments out of fear of falling, breaking a bone, cracking a tooth, and testing just what affordable health care affords you. But I treasure each breath during the walking segments.
I also met with a new doctor the other day, and we were discussing my mental health during the downtimes between work assignments. I expressed my concerns about my level of productivity and excessive worrying about the future. It’s not dire, but spotting the signals of depression early is sort of my superpower. I know when to heed a warning.
As for anxiety? I’ll never see that ninja-cockroach coming. There is no sign of it, and then it’s a horde of unstoppable, creepy, quiet, lethal pests.
As we discussed my coping mechanisms, the doctor offered advice to incorporate volunteering. It doesn’t hurt your wallet, it gets you out of the house, working with a community toward something positive.
Last year, I volunteered at a local hot yoga studio in the West Village. It was an Energy Exchange offer: work four hours for free classes in return. She laughed when I spoke about it in detail and said, “You must have loved that. Your whole energy brightened just now.”
I did love it. Most other EE colleagues were in the arts, struggling with a lot of the same employment and self-esteem issues. I learned from their experiences, wins and losses. Plus, there was some downtime to read without interruption. And cleaning the studios and locker rooms gave me quiet time to think through a story, a conversation, or an issue I was struggling with.
Running used to do the same thing for me. I remember working out the end of a screenplay and writing “The End” in my head during a long run on the West Side Highway. And puzzling through a personal essay mentally, and running home to jot it down before I’d forget it. I’ve read that running or cycling can help with memorization, because it syncs the words to the methodical practice of your feet pressing forward again and again. And I have put that theory to test when preparing for a public speaking engagement. It works!
I took the doctor’s observation as kismet, and I emailed the studio to pick up a summer shift. The combination of running and yoga used to feel incredible for my body and mind. And that sounds like the right thing to do.
So, I invited two healthy practices back into my life. I can’t solve the big things right now, but I’m hopeful that as I sweat through the small stuff, the reward will be sweet. And there’s always the walk-in beer cooler to get my body back to temperature.
