Monday’s walk, for example. I started off creaky and achy and it got worse. No sudden sharp pain, nothing bad enough to tell me that I had injured myself. Just an collection of uncomfortable aches and pains that I felt wimpy to complain about and yet couldn’t stop myself from complaining about.
I sped up the treadmill, I slowed it down, I tried a little incline, I took the incline off. Nope. I watched Barefoot Contessa (lime meringue tart) and was glad I was alone in the mini-gym so I could just say “Ow ow ow ow” very quietly while I walked my grand total of 15 minutes.
Tuesday I felt fine. Walking was easy and quick and simple and the 15 minutes went by like THAT.
It’s not like I had worked out hard on Saturday or Sunday and was recovering on Monday. It’s not like I suddenly was in so much better shape Tuesday. I am out of shape, which is why I’m doing a 15-minute walk. I know it’s going to take time to work up to where exercise feels good instead of just tiring or ache-producing — in fact, I’m surprised that exercise is generally helping me relax at this point and not JUST making me tired.
As someone I compare exercise notes with once wrote:
The first month of starting a fitness program, even a very sensible one within your present fitness level, is going to mean that you are going to be tired. You’re going to need an extra half an hour to an hour’s sleep a night so that your body can build the muscle it needs to start getting stronger and more energetic.
She also pointed out that experienced and enthusiastic exercisers tend to forget about that part. (While I’m tossing out bad news, I should probably point out that not everyone gets “runner’s high” either.)
But I like being able to walk. To maintain this, I go for walks. Sometimes it feels good. Sometimes it doesn’t. That’s life. And now I have “Sometimes It’s A Bitch” in my head.