When Ryan and I broke up, I had some great insight into ways to change my life for the better. I was going to reconnect with all the friends that I've lost contact with over the years. I was going to eat healthier, get more exercise, keep my alcohol consumption to a minimum, and for gods sake FINALLY try to quit smoking. I would go dancing more.
Once I got my car back I was going to go back to Yoga. I sure as hell wasn't ever going to lock my bike up there again, since that was where it got stolen from. What kind of terrible person steals a bike from a Yoga studio anyway? Worst karma ever. That incident forced me to have to return my beloved Prada pumps to finance the rebuild. I couldn't justifiably keep a $750 pair of shoes when it was half the cost of rebuilding my then only mode of transportation. My bike being stolen was a slap in the face after just having been unceremoniously dumped two weeks prior. I was sure that God was plotting to take everything I had ever really loved from me. When I told my teacher, she told me something kind of cruel but accurate and straight from Buddhist sutra: Attachment to material things and people only causes suffering. Accurate, but at that time, the last thing I wanted to hear.
Even though I bought my car back, I would still ride to work when I had a mid-shift and take the bus when I felt like it. I wish I could say I kept doing that. Until yesterday I hadn't ridden my bike since Christmas day. As I pedaled down the bike trail I realized that I was already getting out of shape. My breath came much harder then it should have for the duration that ride was. It felt good to be out in the cold pedaling as fast as I could. The wind was bitter and made my eyes stream and my ears totally numb, a contrast to the burning in my legs. But it felt GOOD. I also knew that Casey would be disappointed if I didn't start riding more again. One of many benefits of dating a bicycle mechanic: helps keep me in shape. I was definitely feeling a bit sheepish for having not ridden in so long: at that very minute he was on a 70 mile ride in the Sierras! So here in front of all you who are reading this now: I promise I will ride two to three times a week for at least an hour from now on. I can't let myself gain back the 35 pounds I've lost. In fact, I'd like to lose another 10 or 15 pounds; at least one more pants size. I have free weights. I should use them. Tone my arms. I should do crunches. I should take a page out of my other ex Arthur's book (or canvas, in his case) and start running. Then again maybe not with the running.
Today because I was hungover as shit and didn't want to ride, I instead went for a walk. I walked from 24th and V street to 24th and P Street, then along P down to 19th, all they way down 19th to V street again and then back to 24th. If I'm doing my math right, that's 26 blocks. Just for the hell of it. And it felt great. I saw some neat stuff I never noticed before. One of these days I'll start remembering my iPhone has a camera and take photos of them. I'd forgotten what it was like to go for a walk for the sheer joy of being out and walking, instead of having to walk out of necessity to get where I need to go.
The thing that I am most embarrassed and depressed to admit here also pertains to my greatest weakness. Those of you who know me well will understand the significance: I've started drinking hard liquor again. This is a bad, bad thing and I must stop. And I shouldn't have to drink a whole bottle of wine to relax and fall asleep. This is also why I must start exercising again. I will sleep without help then. I will not need as much sleep. I've even been backsliding on my self-imposed caffeine prohibition.
I am renewing my promises to myself, and not because it's a new year. I'm doing it because it's what I need to do to be happy with myself as a person. I am falling back into my old bad ways and I must make myself stop. The further I fall, the more depressed I become, causing me to fall still farther. And unlike the first time I made these promises to myself; to get more exercise, to drink less, to go out with friends more, to make another attempt to quit smoking, to go back to yoga, to not spend so much money randomly; unlike the first time I made these promises, this time I am doing it because these things will make ME happy, they will help ME respect MYSELF, instead of some misguided attempt to prove to someone else that I worthwhile. I know I MUST be worthwhile. By keeping these promises to myself I can prove it to the most important person. ME. Maybe I'll even start to really believe it this time.
There are a couple of you out there that I know I can depend on to help hold me to these things. I love you guys and all your support and advice is worth more to me then I can communicate. I am so glad that I came back right now.
Once I got my car back I was going to go back to Yoga. I sure as hell wasn't ever going to lock my bike up there again, since that was where it got stolen from. What kind of terrible person steals a bike from a Yoga studio anyway? Worst karma ever. That incident forced me to have to return my beloved Prada pumps to finance the rebuild. I couldn't justifiably keep a $750 pair of shoes when it was half the cost of rebuilding my then only mode of transportation. My bike being stolen was a slap in the face after just having been unceremoniously dumped two weeks prior. I was sure that God was plotting to take everything I had ever really loved from me. When I told my teacher, she told me something kind of cruel but accurate and straight from Buddhist sutra: Attachment to material things and people only causes suffering. Accurate, but at that time, the last thing I wanted to hear.
Even though I bought my car back, I would still ride to work when I had a mid-shift and take the bus when I felt like it. I wish I could say I kept doing that. Until yesterday I hadn't ridden my bike since Christmas day. As I pedaled down the bike trail I realized that I was already getting out of shape. My breath came much harder then it should have for the duration that ride was. It felt good to be out in the cold pedaling as fast as I could. The wind was bitter and made my eyes stream and my ears totally numb, a contrast to the burning in my legs. But it felt GOOD. I also knew that Casey would be disappointed if I didn't start riding more again. One of many benefits of dating a bicycle mechanic: helps keep me in shape. I was definitely feeling a bit sheepish for having not ridden in so long: at that very minute he was on a 70 mile ride in the Sierras! So here in front of all you who are reading this now: I promise I will ride two to three times a week for at least an hour from now on. I can't let myself gain back the 35 pounds I've lost. In fact, I'd like to lose another 10 or 15 pounds; at least one more pants size. I have free weights. I should use them. Tone my arms. I should do crunches. I should take a page out of my other ex Arthur's book (or canvas, in his case) and start running. Then again maybe not with the running.
Today because I was hungover as shit and didn't want to ride, I instead went for a walk. I walked from 24th and V street to 24th and P Street, then along P down to 19th, all they way down 19th to V street again and then back to 24th. If I'm doing my math right, that's 26 blocks. Just for the hell of it. And it felt great. I saw some neat stuff I never noticed before. One of these days I'll start remembering my iPhone has a camera and take photos of them. I'd forgotten what it was like to go for a walk for the sheer joy of being out and walking, instead of having to walk out of necessity to get where I need to go.
The thing that I am most embarrassed and depressed to admit here also pertains to my greatest weakness. Those of you who know me well will understand the significance: I've started drinking hard liquor again. This is a bad, bad thing and I must stop. And I shouldn't have to drink a whole bottle of wine to relax and fall asleep. This is also why I must start exercising again. I will sleep without help then. I will not need as much sleep. I've even been backsliding on my self-imposed caffeine prohibition.
I am renewing my promises to myself, and not because it's a new year. I'm doing it because it's what I need to do to be happy with myself as a person. I am falling back into my old bad ways and I must make myself stop. The further I fall, the more depressed I become, causing me to fall still farther. And unlike the first time I made these promises to myself; to get more exercise, to drink less, to go out with friends more, to make another attempt to quit smoking, to go back to yoga, to not spend so much money randomly; unlike the first time I made these promises, this time I am doing it because these things will make ME happy, they will help ME respect MYSELF, instead of some misguided attempt to prove to someone else that I worthwhile. I know I MUST be worthwhile. By keeping these promises to myself I can prove it to the most important person. ME. Maybe I'll even start to really believe it this time.
There are a couple of you out there that I know I can depend on to help hold me to these things. I love you guys and all your support and advice is worth more to me then I can communicate. I am so glad that I came back right now.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
tafkasp:
that's okay, i won't judge you either way.
damionw:
it sounds like a good plan. Good Luck.