Mental Fitness

One of the things I like about the VIM is that he's an active kind of guy. Generally I'm not an active kind of girl, but his enthusiasm for, oh say, hiking up the side of a mountain on a set of 1000 limestone steps is contagious. God knows I wouldn't do something like that on my own. It's not that I don't like things like that. It's more that I'm afraid I can't do it. Bike 5 miles? Nope. Can't do that. Hike? No, I don't have the stamina. Lift weights? Please. Look at me. Do I look like I can lift weights? But then he gently reminds me that I have never tried to lift weights. That I don't have to hike the whole way across the state in one day. That I can become more active on my own terms. How ironic is that? That I require someone to hold my hand as I become more active on my own terms?

Anyhow, my next goal is a 22 mile bike ride. He estimates it will take about 4 hours. The longest I have done so far is 8 miles and it was absolutely fine. No soreness, not even really tired after the ride (it's an amazingly flat trail). Part of my brain is looking forward to it. This part knows that not only can I do it, but that I'll enjoy it. The other part - the part that still sees itself as an extremely overweight inactive couch potato is full of wide-eyed fear. "Christ!" it's saying, "Who the hell do you think you are? You can't do this! You aren't meant to be active and fit. Face it!"

After the bike ride, the next goal is a 5K run (writing that at this point is actually laughable. I can't even IMAGINE running 5K.)

The real goal of course - the one that can only be achieved by working through these trivial 22 mile bike rides and 5K runs and mountain hikes - is to silence that part of the brain that isn't me anymore. There will be a point when it says, "You can't do that" and I'll stick out my tongue at it as I throw my hair up in a ponytail and lace up my shoes.