Widows are supposed to feel lousy, and have no energy. Everybody knows grief is ugly. Since it doesn’t matter how I look anymore, why should I push myself out the door, or sign up for a stinky gym?
Do you recognize my attitude? I had it for a couple of years after the death of my husband, and I gained about twenty pounds. Did that make me feel any better because I won the battle against going outside of my own door? Of course not. I felt even more lousy, and my self esteem licked the sidewalk.
Something had to be done before my arm broke from beating myself on the head with guilt. I tried several things. First was a severe diet that I thought was healthy enough, tomato and green chili salsa with corn tostados. Those are vegetables, right? Tomatoes, green chilies and corn. Sounded like a good diet to me.
That is, until I lost ten pounds, the shine in my hair, and the sparkle in my eyes. I gained lines in my face, depression, and my energy plummeted instead of improving. I had to think of something else.
So I joined a gym with a teacher friend. We lifted weights and ran on the treadmill after long days of teaching school. I got to where I dreaded going to that gym and getting all sweaty to go home, change clothes, and get to work again grading papers. Nope, that one didn’t work for my better health either. If I hated it, it wasn’t for me in the long term.
By the time I got to Plan D I was desperate. Then something interesting happened. My daughter gave me a Pedometer to keep track of my steps. Hummmm! So I read the directions and learned how to set it. Then for the first few days I carried it in my pocket and checked it at night to see how many steps I’d taken. Turned out it was about 3,000 when I was working and only 1,500 to 2,000 on weekends when I was on the computer most of the time.
Then I heard a commercial saying people training for marathons ran 5,000 steps at a minimum daily, and 10,000 was their target. Okay, I figured a grandmother could walk, not run, at least 5,000 steps a day and could at least be in the shadow of a marathon runner. So I started making it a point to go outside frequently to move the water hose when I was home and make several trips to the car for each small load of groceries. At work I realized extra trips down the hall to the workroom, the bathroom, the bookroom, and the cafeteria would soon add up.
I discovered when I went to the grocery store, Walmart, or did Meals on Wheels my steps were up to 7,000 or so. Wow! Will I ever run a marathon? I doubt it, but I found an exercise that challenges me, interests me, and can be done wherever I am and in whatever clothes I am wearing. This summer I plan to start walking down my country road, and maybe even try to make 10,000 steps on my old treadmill.
When the end of a day came and I was not up to my personal target of 5,000 steps, I high-stepped in my living room while watching TV, or circled my office table a number of times to make the 5,000. I had a goal. I had a plan. This one worked for me.
This widow is looking up the road, not back down the grief journey trail.
Hebrews 12:1 (GNT)
“…let us rid ourselves of everything that gets in the way, and of the sin which holds on to us so tightly, and let us run with determination the race that lies before us.”
