Yesterday I took my bike out for a spin. My mother recently decided she didn't want her bike rack anymore. Good news for me--I can now go biking pretty much anywhere I want.
I recently moved into an apartment with my boyfriend where we have luscious green and neighborhoods all around.
Once I started pedaling, I felt an instant rush of excitement and nostalgia; the wind in my hair and the scent of Queen Anne's Lace was just the same as it had been when I was young.
It was as if this path I had taken had been waiting for me all this time to return and explore.
Exercise is a funny thing. It seems to be a real chore for a lot of people. Making it a habit and putting aside precious time when you could be working on a project or spending time with family is the hardest part. But the adrenaline and the feeling that you can do this, that you can achieve anything at all--that's what makes it worth it in the end.
In the last few years I've gained 30 pounds. I struggle everyday with making the right choices and eating the right food. I'm "dieting" every week but then mess up by eating a little too much chocolate. That starts my binge eating all over again because I'm angry at myself.
Exercise isn't so hard for me. It seems that I take my anger out in my sit ups and squats. I think, "I'm an idiot for eating those cookies. Now I'm going to pay for it." After my work out is over with, I feel a lot better.
When I biked yesterday, I was too preoccupied with taking in the foliage around me to punish myself for screwing up with my eating habits. I guess it was more of an exercise of the mind, to get those rusty wheels turning again in my mind. I want to be a writer. I know I can do this. I just have to believe in myself, like everyone says. And practice.
Annie