I’ve had oh, so many vices over the years. Smoking, drinking, eating unhealthy foods to cover up unpleasant emotions, video games, laziness…you name it. Somewhere between my late twenties and early thirties I started to get it together. I cut back on drinking, started eating better foods, and tried to avoid the urge to indulge in emotional eating. I got back outside, hiking and running, and eventually started working out on a regular basis. The smoking was the last to go, but go it did, and I had my last cigarette on December 28th, 2008.
So today I got to thinking, “What exactly is a vice?” Merrium Webster lists six definitions, all basically centering around the same premise. A vice is an imperfection, a shortcoming, a habitual defect. And that got me thinking even more. I don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t need to binge eat to feel okay…what do I do?
All of these thoughts rambled through my brain during my workout – Day six of P90X. Let me tell you something you may not know. I love to workout. LOVE IT. I love the feeling of sweat and muscle burn, and the exhilaration of pushing your body to its limit. It’s why I’ve kept running all these years, even through my weight’s ups and downs; it’s why I love P90X so much. So, why, then, have I not continued to workout every day?
Because I know now what my new vice has become.
Taking care of everyone else. Somewhere along the line, after the selfish indulgence of my twenties wore off, I started taking care of people – B, the kids at work, friends, family. More than just care-taking, I wanted to be the fix-it lady. Have a problem? I can fix it. Don’t want my advice? I’m gonna give it to you anyway. And, then, like quicksand, it sucked me in. Suddenly, my own problems were shoved aside, and I didn’t have to think about them or deal, because I had SO MANY OTHER problems to fix. Except, all those other problems weren’t really mine in the first place.
Working out for me isn’t a chore, or an irritation. It’s a joy and a blessing in my day. Why do I not do it? Why do I struggle to make time? Because it’s all about me. And that’s a tough thing for me to be okay with.
But I’m getting better. Last night Ian was up from 4 – 5:30 am. Well, he was up longer than that, but at 5:30, B took over and I went back to sleep. I’ve been getting up at 7 am to work out. I knew that wasn’t happening today. So I reset my alarm for 8:30 and got up to exercise. Like a crazy little psychic tornado, Ian was up at 8:55, right as I was about to push play. So I got him up, changed the diaper, gave him a sippy of milk, and did what a few weeks ago would have been unthinkable. I used the magic of Sesame Street on Demand and finished my workout. He’d wander out by me from time to time, then back to the tv in the bedroom, and I had pangs of guilt, but it worked. Workout done, me time in, Ian happy to be watching Elmo – everyone okay. Was it perfect? No, but it felt so good.
(Now to make you all happy, here’s a picture of my child).
YES. NEVER, EVER get to the place where you’ve nothing left to give anyone, Rachel. The only way to avoid that is to take care of yourself first. I read not long ago that it’s the same premise behind airlines instructing you to don the oxygen mask before you help anyone else–including your children–put theirs on. XOXOXO