We are talking here about something I – and a heckuva lot of other people – really hate to do. We hear again and again that regular exercise is one of the most important keys to good health and long life. It can reduce depression, we are told. And it can make us look better – toned muscles, reduced weight, etc., etc.
Yes, but. Exercising is boring, makes one uncomfortable (all that huffing and puffing, those aching muscles, joints, bones, all that sweating); and it demands energy. Being (apparently) naturally lazy, I resist doing anything that demands energy, but especially activities that are boring and make me uncomfortable.
There are some physical activities that (naturally, being physical activities) demand energy, but which I do not find boring, e.g., dancing, riding a bicycle, horseback riding. But one really can't do these things on as frequent and regular a basis as, we are told, one should exercise. I know there are people who would dispute this, like my friend Joey, who regularly rode his bicycle to and from work through the streets of Toledo; but there's no way Nervous Nellie here could ride a bicycle along the busy corridor between where she lives and where she works. Besides which there's noplace to take a post-commute shower at the library.
My doctor urged me over a year ago to get hold of an exercise bicycle, and use it. A regular bicycle wasn't really a good solution, he said, because here in Maine I wouldn't be able to use it for a good part of the year. Good point. But exercise bicycles simply did not fit into the stringent budgetary limits of this Starving Librarian. So I just continued to erratically follow my basic exercise regimen, which has been the case for many years. Diligent for a week, maybe two, then miss a day, two, three, and right off the exercise wagon you fall. And have to start all over again in a week or so, trying to build your stamina back up. Hating every second of it.
Then, just the other day, the Legionnaire's post across the street from the library was holding a yard sale, and I saw that they had this very basic exercise bicycle for all of one dollar. I figured I could hardly go wrong: even if the thing didn't work at all, I would be out only a dollar. So two of the gentlemen wrestled it into my back seat; I wrestled it out when I got home and lugged it down the slope to my back yard and around to that basement door I just recently had a dead bolt put on, past the possibly poison sumac plants. And I've actually used it several times now. It's something I can do when I just can't make myself do those loathed exercises.
I envy those amazing individuals who like to exercise. How fortunate to actually enjoy something that is good for you.
2 comments:
I've always hated exercise too, but I'm getting to like it just a little. Since we've been retired, Jim and I have been trying to do some exercise almost every day. Usually we walk, which is always pleasant in this area. We joined our local Y, where we swim and even lift weights. We've also been attending a seniors yoga class at the local community center (free to people 55 and over). The Y has a computer system where you can record your exercise and get points, and I find that surprisingly motivating. I've read that even a half hour of exercise a few times a week helps to keep you healthy.
This is one I can relate to. I, also, hate unproductive exercise. Like mowing the lawn in 100* weather.
At one time I bought a used bicycle and rode it pretty often, even towing my golf clubs to the course, but it finally got just too boring. I tried walking in the mall for a while until I got bored looking at women's clothing.
And then I bought an exercise bicycle. If I was bored with exercise before this was now the veritable climax. I still have it and look at it every day. This in no way improves my disposition. I then feel compelled to push back in my recliner and relax until the urge to exercise goes away.
Exercise may relieve depression, but I find the very idea of exercise itself to be depressing. Finger exercises on the computer keyboard are near my present limits.
Cliff
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