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Self> 50 & Energized
Fifty and Energized
By S.D. Craig
6/27/02
Published May 2003
Okay, okay, so those of
you who know me know I won't be fifty until September.
All right, a little white lie, then. And those
of you who know me also realize I'm on the backside
of a foot surgery last March. And where to begin
again?
The last time I started
a new exercise regime was when I began walking
on October 17, 1993. I'll always remember the
date, because it's one of the first things in
my adult life I remember being so proud of.
For all those years until
I broke my foot, I walked at least four to five
days a week for my health. That first three months,
I dropped five clothes sizes, though when I began
my walking program, I could barely go for twenty
minutes, my thighs rubbed together so much. And
it was painful. Remember Desenex, the baby rash
medicine? I had to apply it between my legs every
day for the rash. But it got better with each
day and within a month, I no longer had that trouble.
The eating part, well, that
I've never got the grip on in the past few decades.
I love to eat. There need be no reason -- I just
plain old enjoy food. In spite of that, I am a
picky eater. I have always known to get in control
of my eating, I'd have to be in control of my
life. So I kept real control of the exercise program.
At least that was 50% of the battle, right?
Now that I'm into my second
week of rebuilding the exercise plan, which has
expanded to include yoga (I wish I'd started that
earlier) and biking, I admit it was scary starting
over. Before, I had only one thing I couldn't
do well. Diet. Eat right. Oh, I could eat all
right, but it wasn't the healthiest thing I ever
did. Carbohydrates and chocolate, or sweets, were
(notice I said, "were") my downfall.
A few weeks ago, Dr. Phil
(of Oprah fame) and my eldest daughter inspired
me to get control of my own life. My, how that
message energized me. It also made me cry. Made
me contemplate like I hadn't in years. What did
I want for my body image, my health, my future,
and myself?
I wrote down the 5-Step
plan from Dr. Phil's book and posted it on the
fridge. We made goals together, my daughter and
I. We shed tears together, also. Then we got busy.
We exercise at least five times a week (once on
the weekends so we have one weekday off), we got
rid of all the bad foods in our pantry, we cook
and now we are learning eat right.
Every person who has been
overweight knows what to eat to eat right. We're
experts at it. We've done it over and over. Shed
that same twenty pounds a hundred times, haven't
we? Find a store that intrigues you, and shop
there. For San Diegans, it would be Henry's Market
or Trader Joe's.
A nice neighbor of mine
often asks me every time he sees me out exercising,
"Where do you find the energy?" or "How
do you do it?" You know what the secret is?
At this age, I have to generate the energy from
within. I have to make it, homemade. Myself. In
my twenties and thirties, I had energy to spare.
I went non-stop, working, raised two girls and
danced all night at the local country bar. I took
clogging lessons one night a week. I was a ball
of fire. I rarely let food be my guide in those
days as to when I'd have some fun. I have always
thought the proverb, "Eat to live, not live
to eat" made sense, though I'd never been
able to apply it long-term.
Now, I look for utensils
to light the fire, whether it be inspiration of
a journal (mine or someone else's), my daughter,
my husband, my vision of myself in the future,
a day's walk after a rain, the sunshine, the flowers
I can smell.
I manufacture energy. All
by myself.
So the next time that neighbor
asks me, I'm going to tell him. He looks like
he might want the answer. And now, I'm willing
to give it.
I feel in control for the
first time in years. Energy is the result of that,
of forcing one foot in front of the other when
I'm tired, of making myself do something good
for me. I don't usually want to, but I do it anyway.
And therein lies the key, making energy of my
own gives me more energy.
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About the
writer:
SD Craig is a freelance writer and editor of
LovingYourCurves.com and was given the nickname "Chatterbox"
by fellow writers. At age fifty, Craigs Southern flair and sense of humor
give her plenty to write about with a rapier wit and a wacky outlook.
Her articles on body image (her biggest passion), marriage/divorce and
relationships, family, friends, career issues, computers, the Internet,
horses, baseball, movie reviews and writing tips remind one of Erma Bombeck
or Dave Barry. A freelance writer who once juggled five columns then got
real, Craig welcomes your e-mails and feedback on her articles. Drop her
a hello at sdcraig922@yahoo.com or stop by www.lovingyourcurves.com.
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