Dictionary.com (yes, I’m far more pedestrian than Webster’s, and rarely inhale the rarefied air of Oxford) defines inertia as “inertness, esp. with regard to effort, motion, action, and the like; inactivity; sluggishness.” I think the definition should also include the line, “see also: Sarah.”
Inertia seems to be my middle—or maybe my first—name these days. Inactivity and sluggishness have pervaded my existence, and I’m not sure how to climb out of this rut. I frequently blame my inaction on pregnancy. “I’m so tired!” I frequently whine. In my head I tell myself that the little boy baking within isn’t accustomed to exercise; starting now might upset the delicate balance the two of us have established. But let’s face it; these are weak excuses. Maybe I’m just taking this opportunity to try sloth on for size, see how it fits.
Falling out of good habits like exercise is so easy to do. Climbing back into them is the hardest. I haven’t set foot in the gym in probably two months. And I should disclose – the gym sits three flights above the office where I park my expanding ass for 8, 9, 10, sometimes 11 hours a day. I really can’t find 45 minutes to go up to this gym and walk briskly on the treadmill, pedal contentedly on one of the bikes while perusing a Shape magazine (now I really understand what those marketing folks mean when they define magazines as ‘aspirational’)?
I think—I hope—that the lure of laziness is starting to lose its luster. More and more I find myself fantasizing about conquering fitness challenges post-pregnancy. Today I got an invitation for guaranteed entry to this year’s New York City Marathon. Rather than feel relief that I had an excuse for not running, I was disappointed that an opportunity to run the Race You Cannot Get Into For Love Or Money was going to pass me by. I’m thinking about sprint triathlons, fantasizing about returning to rock climbing lessons. These are all in the future, sure, but at least I’m gazing in the right direction.
Tags: fitness
