The fitness starts again

This weekend I was ruminating in the fact that in the six years since my mother died of obesity related illnesses, I have not made the leaps and bounds I promised myself I would to prevent me from earning an early demise as well.  My mother was 55 when she died but had diabetes, kidney failure, heart failure, high blood pressure and a host of other troubles. 

I did lose a lot of weight in the 2 years after her death.  But then it seemed I became complacent.  You know what they say...out of sight, out of mind.  The memories of my mother's smiling face, jokes and other things crowded out the grim face of her death and I sort of laid back.  I improved my eating a lot although weekend binges still remain a problem unless I tie my self control all around myself.  But exercise has been a problem since coming to India.

In the US I would always walk at the riverfront park for one hour every single night, even weekends.  I loved it there.  There was nature and wind, flat safe surfaces, friendly people, places to get water and use the bathroom.  I would walk fast and read at the same time.  Until it got to dark and then I would just enjoy the view of the lights on the river as I walked.  But in India, working at night means no safe place to walk except on the campus after work.  And although it is mostly well lit and guarded by sentinels posted here and there, it is not peaceful or clean or without hazards including speeding cars and cabs, uneven footpaths and pollution.  The walking parks are closed by the time I get up for the day.  And the pollution level is so high in the streets here from the traffic and burning garbage, that walking outside seems like pounding a few nails into my coffin even as I try to stay out of the coffin by losing weight.

The office has a good gym.  But it's very poorly lit, hot and noisy - the gym instructors always play loud annoying music.  I like to read on the tread mill but the lighting over the treadmills is tiny and yellow.  And although the cubicles in the office are often freezing, the gym is stuffy, humid and hot.  I also don't like the instructors.  Nearly every single one seems to be fascinated by the sight of a fat American and flock to me like moths to a flame.  Some have even asked me bluntly how I came to be "so fat."  They are full of advice and ride remarks which I doubt they even realize is rude.  I personally feel that the instructors should stay on the sidelines unless a gym user asks for help rather than practically crawl into their gym clothes with them.

I have even tried walking on my porch at night when I come home.  But it is not ideal because the porch is small and again poorly lit.

The bottom line however is, I can search until the cows go home for the best place to exercise with the same lovely conditions which I was blessed with in the US.  But that won't be found here or at least not conveniently close to my home.  I can stack excuses for not exercising all around me until I am buried in them and that is exactly what will happen to me if I don't just bite the bullet and exercise:  I will be buried and buried early, just like my mom.

Now a part of me - tiny but still there - sometimes says, what's so bad about dying early?  This world is so full of nasty bad things and careless cruel people.  I do not have a husband or kids for whom living would seem appropriate.  My brothers and sister and nieces and nephews would get on in life quite nicely without me and so would all of my friends. God knows there have been times when a desperate feeling of despair when I see things in the news has overwhelmed me and sent me deep into a black mood.

But the silly human spirit fights regardless and wins every time.  And I know I don't really want to die early.  So I made a decision this weekend.  One of the other troubles with me and exercise is I set goals for myself but with only myself counting on that goal, I can easily cheat my own mind and excuse my way out of any goal.  But if someone else sets a goal and holds me accountable for it, I will work hard to meet the goal.  So I went to work and recruited friends to my new plan.  I told them I will go to the gym every night after work from 2-3 AM without fail barring extreme injury or sickness and days off.  They must ask me daily/weekly if I am going as promised.  The punishment for me will be having to explain why I didn't after I told them I would.  So far I have recruited two colleagues to the job.  One even said she would join me in the gym.  One has strengths of discipline and consistency which I know will make her perfect for the job of relentless making me stick to my promise.

I have already started the fitness regime.  I went to the gym last night, endured the stares of the instructor who also tried hovering around to glimpse my weight when I weighed myself.  He also came and critiqued my shoes and didn't seem convinced that in the US, my shoes were considered walking and hiking shoes.  He seemed to feel that, because he had never seen these shoes, they couldn't be proper for walking on a treadmill.  I was saved when another gym-er came in and he had to go help that guy who actually wanted help.  One task my team of belly busters will have to perform is keeping that guy away from me.  Few things turn me from gymming faster than a nosy, rude, staring instructor.

Please readers - pray for me that I stick to my resolve this time, that my team of encouragers stays with me and that I can actually honor my mother even better by not dying like she did at the young age of 55 or worse.