Working Out Is Hard to Do

I feel like someone should make a a parody, and instead of singing, “breaking up is hard to do” they could show a mom singing “working out is hard to do.”

One of my friends is experiencing a little more stress and discouragement than normal. Her husband is having to work long hours, and that has impacted how she lives her daily life with 3 little kids.

She knew that I worked out regularly and asked if she could join me at the gym. So we went and lifted weights today and talked about how hard it is to make yourself a priority in your family.

About a year and a half ago, I made some important discoveries. First, my body was falling apart, and it wasn’t going to get any better with age if I didn’t do something about it. I always had problems with my hips while I was pregnant, but now I wasn’t even pregnant and my hips were still falling out of joint and causing me a lot of pain and limited mobility.

The second realization, and more important one, was that no one else was going to make sure I was taken care of.

No one else was going to make sure that I got the exercise my body needed. No one else was going to make sure I got enough sleep. No one else was going to make sure my days were mostly happy. No one else was going to make sure I wasn’t taking on too much and feeling stressed. No one else was going to make sure that I had time for friendships. No one else was going to make sure that I had things in life that filled me with purpose.

No one else was going to do these things because no one else could.

My husband loves me so wholeheartedly and unselfishly. He would help in any way I asked. But the problem was….I wasn’t asking.

Why I wasn’t asking is a whole other story, but the point is that I realized I had to be the one to make sure I was okay.

So about 1 and a 1/2 years ago, in December, I committed to working out 3 times a week. I figured if I could prioritize that in the midst of Christmas and parties and shopping and family activities, then I’d be able to do it all the time.

I bought a monthly pass at the gym and started going. The first few times I went I was too chicken to actually go in the classes (which is what I wanted to do) and ended up running on the treadmill. I eventually made it into the classes. I felt like I couldn’t walk after some of them. I learned that I love Zumba and really missed dancing. I worked myself up to a mile time that was faster than anything I had ever run in my life, and I made a goal to break the 7 minute mark (getting close!) I got stronger. Working out consistently has helped me feel better in so many ways: my hips aren’t acting crazy, I sleep better, and I feel better emotionally.

But it was, and sometimes still is, freaking hard to make it happen. Not because I don’t want to go, but because I don’t want other people to have to give up something to make it happen. My little 3 and 5 year old give up time with me. They’re crying half the time when I leave because they don’t want me to go. My husband gives up his time to watch those little girls and drive kids to school. And I have to give up doing things too. Taking time to go to the gym means I don’t have as much time to do all the other things that I’d like to keep my house running smooth and my kids and husband happy.

But if I don’t do it, it makes it much harder for me to be happy.

I realized I had placed a high value on everyone else in the family being happy and having their needs met, but made an exception when it came to my own needs and happiness. I felt like other people would suffer if I made myself a priority too. Especially my kids! It’s hard to leave children who are crying for you, wanting you, needing you….and I’m not just taking about the little ones because even the older kids want me around and available all the time.

One of the things that helped me really commit in spite of how hard it was to carve that time out for myself, was actually the thing that made it so hard to leave in the first place. I have 5 daughters (and a son) and I love them so much it hurts sometimes. These five daughters are going to grow up and leave my house, possibly to become mothers and wives themselves, and I didn’t want them to live the way I was living as a woman, wife, and mother. I was not the example I wanted them to follow. I didn’t want them feeling unhappy and discouraged because they weren’t taking care of themselves. I didn’t want them to feel like their needs and wants didn’t matter. I didn’t want them to feel like their happiness mattered less than the happiness of others.

I want them to know that they matter, as individuals.

I want them to know that they have to be the one to make sure they are okay, because no one else can.

So in the end I guess I’m working out for me and for them. 🙂 But either way, I’m working out and we all benefit from it.