Friday Fear

Most people look forward to Fridays - the end of the work week, the start of the weekend. Not me, not this week at least, because this Friday is February 1, and is the first weigh-in day since I began my very long walk. I am able to look back over the month and know that I've done far better than usual in terms of diet, exercise, and overall health, but all my life I've had small successes and larger failures, and I'm terrified.

What I can't decide is if I'm more afraid of failure or success. Failure - to lose weight, to lose inches, to see progress on my goals - would be crushing, but would still be a familiar feeling. Success, on the other hand, has been so rare that it would be suspect. And the fear is even more subtle than that; a small success may still be disappointing, given the far greater effort I've put into these goals, but a large success raises suspicion that it isn't truthful, that there might be some mitigating factors affecting the outcome, that the good result will not last.

That said, I'm not out of tricks yet. I've walked more than 70 miles this month and bettered my diet and the meals I cook for my family, but there are additional steps that can still be taken. The month may be ending, but the journey is still only just beginning.

And come what may, one day from now, the month's fear will pass as well - all things in time.

Oodles of Odometers

In its most basic sense, an odometer is defined as "as instrument that indicates distance." But distance can be measured in many ways, and there are many ways I'm measuring the physical aspect of this 1,000 mile journey.

• Average daily distance necessary to reach 1,000 miles in 365 days
• Actual distance I walk, cumulative each day
• Margin of difference between overall average and actual distance
• Percentage of actual average achieved through current date
• Percentage of 1,000 miles already walked

But why measure so much? Each indicator gives me a new look at a very large and potentially overwhelming goal; a new perspective on my progress. Knowing the average I ought to be walking gives me something to aim for each day, and tracking what I actually walk is essential to knowing my progress toward that goal. The margin of differences, whether positive or negative, tells me should I walk more than that average or do I have some room to slow down a bit. The percentages are more out of curiosity, but let me see the accumulation of miles and progress in a different way.

To date, I have walked well more than 50 miles (see the new odometer counter at the right, below my profile but above the blog archive), but still below what the overall average ought to be; this is not too upsetting as yet, however, because once the foul air and bitter cold is alleviated, walks will naturally get more frequent and longer. I am pleased that on no date have I had to enter 0.0 for my actual distance walked; each day I am getting closer to my goal.

So many times we need to take a new perspective - a new measurement of our lives. If you only look at your life one way and aren't pleased with what you see, looking at it in a different way can show you something you hadn't seen before. Maybe you aren't making all the progress you'd hoped for, but you are making progress.

And so am I.

Recharge

No one can keep up a frantic pace indefinitely without crashing, just as no one can walk 1,000 miles nonstop. Sometimes, the pace has to slow, the time at the gym has to shorten and the muscles - and heart and mind - have to heal, to recharge.

I've been slower than I'd have liked for the past few days, recovering from soreness that has compounded a lingering cough. Slower, but not stopped - I've yet to enter a 0.0 daily mileage on my odometer spreadsheet. And this slower pace has allowed me to contemplate the spiritual and mental sides as well - slowing down is another type of learning and growth. If we're always focused on a distant goal, we miss what we might be passing by on our way to reach it. Sometimes, along the journey, we need to take our eyes off the finish in order to see the sidelines, and admire the richness all around us. I'm still struggling to find balance for work, family, volunteering, exercise, hobbies, and the rest of the facets of my life, but step by step each goal - near and far - is coming closer.

A recharge, then, is often essential. It might put us temporarily behind a prominent goal, but it allows us to remember why we're aiming for that goal, and we can step out again refreshed, energized, and ready to proceed. Will I reach my goals - 1,000 miles and otherwise - by December 31? It is far too early to make that judgement, but a bit more rested, I can at least continue on my way.

Weight of the Walk

The icy grip continues its stranglehold, and the intense cold weighs heavily on me. Not only does it make walking more difficult - even the few minutes to walk to the gym can be piercingly painful in this bitterness - but this is the season when a lot of heavy thoughts weigh on my mind. Part of my spiritual journey is addressing them, and I am doing my best. As my loving husband and soul mate recently put it, however "a pat on the back for a broken spine does nothing." With the horrors of the past decade, my spine is more than broken - shattered, shredded, and eviscerated would only show the physical damage. Ironically, the nerves within - the emotions - have gone numb to great pain, but to recover I must energize them again.

But how? I've opened myself to this pain too many times, and each instance stabs deeper. That in itself has strengthened me, as I am forced to move on despite the pain, but what good are emotions when they are focused on the negative? I need to find more positive emotions, to relearn that it is all right to feel good.

I'm not saying I never feel good; some days are certainly much better, but the glowing moods last far shorter than the shadowed ones. When I look out and see the vibrancy of the landscape weighted down by mountains of white powder and crystalline ice, I can't help but feel more shadowed. How many miles must I walk to reenter the glowing light?

I'm not yet far along enough in my journey to discuss the details of my pain, but each step brings me closer. Walk with me, and you'll discover that your pain is not alone, as I hope to discover myself.

Totals Taking Flight

One week in to this 1,000 mile journey, totals are beginning to take flight. While I only plan to weigh myself and compare body measurements once per month, I am keeping daily totals of my mileage walked. For the first seven days of 2013, I have walked 10.9 miles and am well on my way.

Admittedly, this first week's total does not come up to what a spread out average of per day miles should lead to, but there are a lot of factors at play - recovering from a harsh bout of the flu, vicious icy weather and temperatures that preclude outdoor walking, and retraining muscles long forgotten. But each day the daily mileage is growing, as is the accumulated total. The feet and legs are getting better accustomed to these expectations, and I'm finding different ways to make time spent on a treadmill more interesting.

Everyone has heard the aphorism "it's a marathon, not a sprint" and that is one hard part of the mental and spiritual journey I'm encountering. I have a strong competitive edge - a heart desperately straining to prove it isn't what others have called it - but I have to adjust to competition only with myself. It is hard when you feel you're always being judged and when those who should be supportive turn out to be your most vehement opponents, but it is all part of the journey.

I may just be getting my wings, but the time to soar is coming.

Frozen Air

Winter is a fact of life in Utah, but just as the new year has gotten underway and my feet are itching to take to the sidewalks, streets, trails, paths, and other routes in this wonderful outdoors, the temperature has fallen to painful, even dangerous levels. These are the days when the air itself has a crystalline sheen from moisture particles freezing instantly, when children cannot safely play outside for long periods, when the existing snow develops a new ice coating each night as any ambient moisture adheres to its surface. One's nose and eyes feel the effects of instant ice, and uncovered skin gets bitterly chilled in just a few minutes, and will take twice as long to return to warmth once indoors again.

So how to keep walking and keep up with these goals when the more attractive outdoor options aren't options at all? Fortunately, I live only one-tenth of a mile from a gym where my family has a membership, and I'm a regular visitor. While it's interesting (and sarcastically ironic) to see the membership numbers swell this month, the crowds will gradually dwindle in the next few weeks. There are plenty of weights and cardio machines available, and I've not had any difficulty securing a treadmill for my walking goals. The one on the end was wobbly, and the one on the opposite end was too close to the fan and gave a stronger breeze to ruffle the magazine I'd brought along, but none were unusable. More importantly, all add steps and miles to my totals.

Too many people find easy excuses to avoid doing what they know they need. I could say it's too cold to walk to the gym in just sneakers and workout gear, or it's too crowded to be comfortable, or it's too boring to just use a treadmill and maybe I'll start in a few weeks when the weather cooperates. But those are only excuses, so what do I say?

It's time to go to the gym.

Pain

Change is painful, and physical change can be more painful than most. In the case of starting this daily exercise regimen on my way toward 1,000 miles, it's more than pain - crippling agony would be a more accurate description. Various weight training exercises have brutalized my muscles into a pulp, but while that may seem harsh, it's a good sign - if you do a workout and come away without any twinges at all, you didn't actually give your muscles a workout at all.

The difference between useful pain and injury pain is important to understand, however. The easiest way to tell is twofold: location and intensity. The good pain, that which tells you you've worked out effectively, is concentrated in the center of muscles and is more of an ache, albeit a strong one. Bad pain that tells you you've overstretched yourself is concentrated more toward the joints and is more piercing.

I may be hobbling a bit and thankful for handrails on the stairs, but in a good way. Working out with weights and weight-bearing exercise will build the muscle I need to press on mile after mile, and I'm still incorporating walking into my workouts as well. But how does one cope with the pain and continue going to the gym? I've asked this question of a number of sources, and there is no definitive, magical answer or cure. But what does work for me...

• Aspirin as needed (though I minimize medications in my life)
• Daily stretching to move around the acids causing the muscle pain
• Hot pads for extreme aches, otherwise warming the muscles with proper gear
• Drinking plenty of water and staying hydrated
• Continuing to move, even when under duress, so the muscles get used to the work
• Adequate rest, even a day off if necessary

It takes time, of course, but so does walking 1,000 miles. This early in the year, the physical journey I'm on is by far the most difficult, and I haven't yet begun much for the mental and spiritual components of this change. But like any change, it will come, and the pain will be overcome in time.

First Steps

The first day of the new year, the first steps toward a trio of goals that will be anything but easy. Today was filled with getting back to work, adjusting calendars, changing notebooks, cleaning the fridge, doing laundry, checking weight, body measurements... and walking. These first symbolic steps toward 1,000 miles took me to the gym - conveniently located one-tenth of a mile from home - and onto a treadmill for a combined walk of 2.0 miles; fitting, for version 2.0 of me (though to be honest, I couldn't possibly calculate my realistic version number, given 36 years of resolutions, diets, exercise plans, meal trials, and fresh starts behind me).

It wasn't as easy as I'd have liked. I am not familiar with treadmills and don't typically enjoy walking in one place, at the same pace, without any textural variation under my soles or visual variation in my surroundings. Yet this is necessary for tracking my physical distance goals, and it turns out that my pace is slower than I'd predicted, which will mean the walking takes longer all year, or at least until my legs and feet are in better shape for it. But that's okay - just as a journey of 1,000 miles starts with a single step, so too will those steps add up in the end and it isn't necessary to walk 1,000 miles the first day.

What is necessary is to just keep walking. So it took longer than I'd hoped at the gym this evening? Maybe I'll head to the gym more than once a day for shorter durations that will add just the same. Everything has a solution, if we're willing to take the steps to get there.