Off with the Sloth
I’ve survived day two of walking myself into a non-round shape. It’s not an easy task. Fibromyalgia, my version of it, includes bouts of fatigue. I tried doing something as simple as lunges as part of my friend Sandra’s virtual bootcamp; twenty minutes of that put me into a fatigue crash that had me sleeping 36 out of the next 48 hours and, frankly, weeks of depression just thinking about that failure.
Exercise can induce/worsen Fibromyalgia symptoms but exercise also ease symptoms. It’s a bit of a catch-22, frankly. The other benefits of getting my fat ass in motion is improving my quality of life, extending my lifespan, curtailing my type-2 diabetes and all sorts of other things.
I’m taking small steps to start. Walking, and gradually — very gradually — working my way up. Two days, five miles. An hour a day, in the late afternoon when I’m most tempted to take a nap. Ultimately, this is a lifestyle change and radical changes are less likely to stick. For me, at least.
Walking is good. It’s a solitary thing for me and it always puts me in a good headspace. Today, for example, I worked out how to fix some problems in a story I want to revise and submit soon. Then I spent the rest of the time listening to what may be the most awesome walking/running song ever created on repeat: The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner by Iron Maiden.
Settling into a proper schedule between writing, working, and exercise is really doing good things. I’m already feeling more energetic and I’ve written more words this week than the whole month combined.