In Searching for simplicity on September 24, 2010 at 10:57 am

24/365 training run

The sweet spot for exercise is not at 4.30 in the am when I’m struggling and desperate for 10 more minutes of sleep, is not at 10pm when I have finally put my baby to sleep and I find myself tired and having to get ready for bed, and is not really at my lunch time for a hurried 30 minutes.

I long for exercise and I don’t.  My muscles grow weak and small.  My self-esteem goes out the window as time goes by and I look at myself growing soft and padded, with orange skin slowly spreading through my body.

What do I want? In my dream world I would like to get up, get my baby ready for school, then exercise, then go to work… at say 10 am.  There.  I’ve said it.  That’s what I want.

I truly love my job and I don’t want leave it, nor stop having an income, or being self-sufficient.  I just want time for a life.  I’ve heard so many times life described as the 9 to 5 rat race.  It does feel like that sometimes.  Get up, go to work, come back home, get ready for bed.  Weekends are so hectic doing laundry, picking up the house, grocery shopping, and fixing meals that there’s little time to do anything else.  Exercise? I wish you could hear me laughing right now.

At work I’m good at making things work when there’s scarcity. I could even venture to say I thrive on it. Give me a project, bigger than my resources and I’ll make it work. I will push people to stretch beyond what they thought they could do. I will streamline processes and cut waste. At the end I will give you a slimmer, faster group that will be capable of accomplishing a lot more than they had thought possible before.

I am reading Leo Babauta’s book, The Power of Less. One of the things he says is to find our bare minimum limits and work within them. Cut the excess out. Cutting the excess out of my life in order to get to that exercise seems a monumental undertaking.

I have the idea that moving closer to work, downsizing, declutterizing until there’s nothing more than 3 plates, 3 towels, and our other 97 items per person, will somehow find me the time for exercise.

Then I wonder why do I have to make it so complicated? Why not just either accept I won’t exercise, or take those 30 frantic minutes at lunch time? What has burning my stuff, and that of my husband and child and migrating to a small apartment closer to work have anything to do with exercising?

I am aware there is a decision I haven’t made. There is a struggle I haven’t given up. Once I do, I’ll be committed to whatever it is I decide to do around exercise.

In the meantime I still believe simplifying will open the way, somehow, for exercising.

I have the idea that simplifying is a shedding of sorts, from furniture to fat to worries to struggles. And what is left is a thinner, lighter self who wonders while standing at an intersection of possibilities, what was the big deal about the whole thing. Now she’s free to move and go and exercise as she pleases, and so she does.

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