Maybe I Wasn’t Born To Run – But I’ve Got To Do Something

I recently got an idea in my head that my boyfriend and I should train for a duathlon.  A duathlon involves two out of three events between running, biking, and swimming.  I decided that swimming was totally out because I’m not a swimmer and don’t really enjoy the water.

The great thing about a duathlon is that the run is “relatively short”.  The specific race I was looking at was a two mile run, eight mile bike, and two mile run. 

To be clear, this was something that I wanted to do for myself, not in competition with anyone else.  I have been struggling with exercising ever since my dad died, so I thought that maybe having a concrete goal would be the motivation I needed.

So a few weekends ago, my boyfriend dragged me outside for a run.  We walked most of the way.  Try as I might, the running just sucked.  There’s no other way to put it.

I was so frustrated.  Even though two miles isn’t that long of a run for most people, I could barely run a block.  My boyfriend was very encouraging in telling me that I ran more than a block – it was more like three blocks. 

Three blocks does not two miles make.

I have never been a runner, not even pre-illness.  So why force myself to do this?  I don’t know.  What seemed like a good idea before, doesn’t seem like a very good idea now.  It seems stupid.

Who am I kidding?  I can’t compete in an athletic event.  I can barely run three blocks.

I’ve been inspired by blogger friends who are super athletic, but I’m realizing I have to get my own thing.  I guess right now, now that I’m no longer a student, I don’t know exactly what that is yet. 

I’ve considered simply walking the duathlon, rather than even try to run it at all.  Would that be such a bad thing?  Especially if I’m just doing this for me?

So I’m making a pledge to myself.  I’m starting small, going back to the basics.  I’m going back to my walk aerobics DVD, the one I used to do religiously, which kept me in the shape I wanted to be in. 

I guess somewhere along the line I got it in my head that that walk aerobics was for middle-aged women (no offense).  I also think that I became self-conscious doing it around my boyfriend – silly, I know.

The two mile walk takes 30 minutes and the three mile walk takes 45 minutes.  I have that time.  I’m unemployed, at the moment.  And I don’t have any excuse – not that it’s raining – I don’t even have to leave the house.

I have weights and a stepper in the closet.  They have never seen the light of day.  I bought them with good intentions, but even good intentions with no motivation spells disaster.

I don’t feel good about myself for a variety of reasons, but that’s another post.

So no more excuses.  I’m holding myself accountable.  It might not be running, but you’ve got to start somewhere.  And this lady is the most out of shape she has ever been.  I went from being a size zero to barely holding it in, in mediums (sigh).

Methylprednisolone was one of the worst things to ever happen to me.  I have what seem like permanent stretch marks on areas of my body that shouldn’t really have stretch marks.

So I might not be running.  I might barely be walking.  But I’m getting up and doing something.  If I don’t help myself, no one else will. 

Fitness For Chronic Illness* (And Evaluating My Resolutions Three And A Half Months In)

Recently, Facebook implored me to like a page called “Fitness For Chronic Illness”.  I was intrigued. 

My first thought was, I wish I’d thought of that.  And my second thought was, I have to try it.

The unique thing about this program is that it starts out with visualization exercises, then a workout, then meditation.  It really focuses on the mind-body connection.

I think it’s a great program if you really aren’t able to do much physical activity.  There’s a lot of stretching and a focus on increasing mobility.  I think it’s also great if you are having a flare and need to pull back on what you usually do, or it’s great to do as an additional workout to what you already do.    

The program is designed so that you do one workout for two weeks, the second workout from weeks three to five, and the third workout from weeks six to eight.   

***

As I mentioned in my New Year’s resolutions, a big thing that I want to do this year is get back in to working out.  In Michigan, I was kickboxing once a week for an hour, and doing a 2- and a 3-mile walk aerobics DVD, the 2-mile, one day, and the 3-mile, another.  

So I was working out hardcore three times a week.  With defending my dissertation, then moving, then starting a new program, working out went by the wayside, which is unfortunate because it is critical for people with arthritis to keep moving and stay active.  And it is critical for me in the hope that I will take off some of the weight I have gained from being on steroids for almost a year.   

My current work out consists of:

-         Nightly Crunches

o   50 regular

o   20 with feet in the air

o   25 side-to-side

o   Bridge held for 30 seconds

-         Gym (Twice a week)

o   Walking 2.5 miles – 45 minutes on treadmill

o   Five-pound weights (graduated from three-pound weights)

§  20 bicep curls

§  10 bat wings

§  10 lifting weights over head

§  10 side-to-side

§  10 triceps lifts

§  20 punches

o   20 jumping jacks

o   Plank on elbows held for 30 seconds

o   Plank on hands held for 30 seconds

***

So where does Fitness For Chronic Illness fit into my current workout routine?

I’ve only made it up back up to working out twice a week, so I would love to be able to use it for my third workout of the week, as it is less intense than doing what I currently do, but focused very much on moving around.  

I used to lament having to adapt the workout video that I used to do.  And kind of gave up on it when I went on my unintentional workout hiatus.  But the great thing about this program is that, if you need to modify movements, that is discussed in the program, so it doesn’t make you feel bad about yourself if you can’t do every move as shown.    

You can purchase the DVD for $19.99.  For more information, visit http://www.fitnessforillness.com/.

* My cousin happens to be the co-creator of the program, so I was able to try it for free.  (Although I don’t think that either of us realized we work both working on chronic illness related stuff until we reconnected on Facebook.)

Getting The Gears Moving In May

May is both Lupus and Arthritis Awareness month.  I don’t love these awareness months, as for me, awareness is 24/7/365 – in other words, every day of the year.  And while I know that these months are designed to make those healthy people around us aware, with my blog, I hope that I create awareness, again, every day of the week, every month of the year.

It’s also walk season, and I have various issues with these fundraisers.  I think it’s absurd to have lupus walks outside, when so many of us are photosensitive. 

But moving away from my critiques, one important thing to take from both the months and the walks is to get moving. 

This year, HealthCentral is doing a big push for exercise in May for Arthritis Awareness month.  Check out this awesome video of the RA writers exercising:

Because I had to video my workouts for HealthCentral, I made this video of myself kickboxing:

Regardless of your personal opinions about the awareness months and walks, a good lesson to take as the weather (finally) gets nice is to get up and get moving!

Zen And The Art Of Kickboxing (With Chronic Illness)

I’ve mentioned before that yoga is not really my thing.  While it certainly is a workout, it’s not enough for me.  What I mean is, I’m too high maintenance for yoga.  I need to be moving, need to be mixing things up.  If I wanted to be left to ruminate on my own thoughts, I would stay home.  That’s something I already do.  I don’t need new age music and the smell of sweaty feet to awaken my true self.  And I mean no disrespect to people that truly enjoy yoga.  I wish I did.  Again, it’s just not my thing, and I think I’ve given it a pretty fair shake. 

And I’m not a runner, either.  I have tried to convince myself otherwise, even with illness, but I immediately feel how hard running is on my body.  And I don’t like it.  When I work out, I want to do it hard, but not to the detriment of my already fragile joints.  I’ll happily walk all over the place, though.  And my standard workout routine is doing a walk aerobics video that has one, two, and three mile walks.  So I do each of those once a week.  (Although with all the traveling I’ve been doing this summer, my routine has gotten off, and I’ve been trying to eek out two three-mile walks each week)   

So, if not yoga and not running, what?  Well, I’ve decided to take up kickboxing, not so much as a way to learn personal protection, but as a way to express my feelings in a different manner than I already do. 

When I first met with my instructor, we talked about my fitness goals and other things I was hoping to get out of learning to kick box.  He mentioned stress relief, and that was certainly a draw for me.  He ventured that you want to beat the shit out of something.  He said it, I didn’t.  I didn’t elaborate about what is causing my need to “beat the shit out of something”, but I couldn’t agree with him more.

For the past probably six months or so, I’ve been dealing with anger issues.  Not anger issues to the point that I need anger management, but anger issues that are keeping me from focusing on more important things.  I’ve been working on channeling my anger, if not directly at the person the anger is related to, then at least, away from myself.

The last few years have been so totally focused on my health.  And not health in terms of getting fit or in shape.  Health in terms of not dying; health in terms of simply trying to live.  I’ve put so much time and energy into adapting to life with chronic illness, and trying to survive all of the other curveballs that life has thrown at me along with illness, that it’s really nice to have something else to put my energy into.  To put out everything I have to give when I get onto the mat.

I really like my instructor.  He’s pretty hot, which is a plus, but more than that, he’s teaching me how to distinguish between physical obstacles and mental ones.  He doesn’t let me cop out when things get hard, and honestly, I need that.

I’m not a quitter, but there are definitely times when I know I wallow in self-pity.  And I hate that about myself.  It easy to ratchet down the physical stuff when you don’t feel well.  So it’s also nice to be able to push the physical to the limit; to the point where I’m crawling on the floor, sweat dripping everywhere, totally wanting to puke.  Come on, you all know that I have masochistic tendencies.    

My instructor also emphasizes the fact that this is my time.  It’s my hour to be totally alert and focused on what I have to do.  My time to focus solely on making every move count and getting the most out of myself that I can. 

And when I think about it, doing an intense workout for an hour is so much less time than I’ve spent in much more challenging and less fun situations.  I’ve spent countless hours in doctors’ offices, getting blood work and procedures done, laying on the couch because I’m flaring, and generally trying to adapt to life with illness, that it’s time to focus my energy on something else.  It’s time to let go of all that.  It’s my time.  To do something I enjoy doing, regardless of how easy or difficult it is.

There were certainly some foibles at first.  My hand-eye coordination (or lack thereof) is clearly more of a problem than any limitations that my illnesses put on me, I’m sorry to say.

I’ve been amazed at what I’ve actually been able to do.  I think sometimes, unknowingly, we kowtow to illness a bit.  I know that I may be functioning at “higher levels” than some people with my illnesses, but everyone should do something.  Keep moving.  Find something that makes you feel good and good about yourself.  Illness is a full time job.  It can suck the life out of you. 

And let me tell you, there’s nothing more life affirming than kicking the shit out of a punching bag while a hot guy cheers you on.  Now you see firmly where my priorities lie.  But seriously.  Do something, even if it’s in the privacy of your own home and no one else is watching you.  It certainly does help to have a cheerleader, though, someone who makes you accountable and doesn’t allow you to wuss out; even when you are on all fours on the floor, trying to catch your breath.  And especially when you are sweating buckets and don’t even care that this is happening in the presence of a really hot guy.

It’s great to feel pain that’s not illness related.  That might sound weird, but it feels good to know that the pain I’m feeling – coincidentally more in my muscles than my joints at this point – is actually the result of working out hard.  I haven’t been able to say that in a long time.  I haven’t been able to feel that, because I’ve been too busy concentrating on my illness related pain (and rightfully so, I think).   

Of course, I haven’t been able to do every single move to perfection.   My legs only kick so high, and it’s hard for me to straighten my legs at the knee.  My elbow extension varies.  But my instructor has taken this all in stride.  He’s found workarounds for some things, adaptations if you will, and rarely, we scrap certain moves all together.

I ultimately chose to go with private lessons because I was self-conscious about being in a class where people older than me could kick higher than me.  This is purely my own issue.  But I didn’t feel like I’d be able to fully concentrate if I was worried about other people looking at me weird.  Although sweating buckets and getting my ass kicked by and in front of a really hot guy doesn’t help matters, either, but that is a whole other story. 

The Zen thing about kickboxing is that it forces you to clear your head.  You have to concentrate on the moves, or else run the risk of missing the bag and punching the air, or better yet (although it hasn’t happened to me yet), snapping yourself in the face with the stretchy band.

Or maybe what’s Zen about kickboxing is that it’s not really Zen at all.  It’s awesome.  It’s kick ass.  And it makes me realize that I’m tougher than I thought and not quite as fragile. 

I’m challenging myself, and challenging my body to work out hard, to go to places that it hasn’t previously gone before (either healthy or sick).  All I can really say (to both kickboxing and illness) is: Bring it!

(And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll post some pictures eventually…)