The day I blew my exercise fuse and loved it

I am the Queen of Child’s Pose. I will drop to child’s pose whenever I want to. I will drop to child’s pose just to check in to SEE if it’s what I want to do. I will err on the side of child’s pose every time. Unsure? Child’s pose. Tired? Child’s pose! I love child’s pose!

Am I lazy? Unmotivated? Maybe…

But long ago there was a time when taking a rest, or a day off, or NOT pushing to the absolute edge of my capabilities was not on my radar screen. I have run miles to nowhere on treadmills, climbed to the top of infinite buildings on stairclimbers, and lifted Sisyphusisan quantities of weight. I read so many celebrity rags I was completely up to date on any couple merged-nicknames.

Was I aware of the futility of it all? Painfully aware.

I didn’t really like being so invested in the next issue of “InStyle.” And I was not having a bit of fun. But I thought this was what I had to do to be fit. And isn’t being fit part of a happy, healthy life? And then–I’m not sure exactly when–but I could not walk back into the gym.

Perhaps FOX news blaring on the gym TVs had drowned out the tiny pop of my fuse finally blowing.

I had finally overwhelmed the false circuit that had kept me going back to something my body destested. In a moment a long time coming, my ability to “push it!” or “feel the burn” or “dig deep” had flashed dully and burned out. I had ignored the impulses in my body; silencing the only way to be healthy in an attempt to be healthy. What a bummer! I had to learn how to do something far from my area of expertise:

humble myself.

There is this idea in ayurveda of ahamkara, which is, in crude Ali-terms is “The Body Wife.” Very basically: all the systems of the body have to work together for optimum health. One part of you can’t decide for the rest of you what is best. So you have to keep asking the little lady,

“Honey, what do you feel like?” and be open to responding to the answer.