Let's Dance

So...it's NaBloPoMo again, and I'm going to attempt a perfect record...We'll see how this goes!

As part of an ongoing improve-Kat program, and to help manage my symptoms of IBS, of course one of things I could improve or do to help myself that doesn't involve taking a pill is to exercise. I hate exercise. Seriously. It's very hard for me to get motivated. I have never been an athletic person. I am not flexible or even very coordinated. And the idea of running on a treadmill makes me only want to run far, far away from it. I hate playing team sports for the most part. (I am actually a decent tennis player.) I can't even really throw a ball that well when I play fetch with Molly (see: Incident Wherein I Tossed a Tennis Ball into My Wine Glass, which I Couldn't Have Done if I Tried.)

BUT. My sister and I had been talking about how we just aren't...metabolizing the way we used to. (We have been blessed with fairly slim genes, thank you God.) And we don't want to be unhealthy or not take care of ourselves. And you can be thin and still be out of shape or lack muscle tone completely (see exhibit A: Kat.)

So we decided on a lark to take some community education classes (ponying up for a gym membership? We are SO NOT THERE yet.) After a glass or two of wine, we ended up signing up for a yoga class and a belly-dancing class. (My mom also signed up for the yoga class.)

It's now been six weeks of exercise, twice a week, for an hour and hour-and-a-half, respectively.

I'm feeling better. I enjoy going to class. I laugh at my foolish attempts to look flexible and coordinated and centered. One class is right after work, so I'm already out and about, so I don't dread going. The other is in the morning on Saturdays, but not so dreadfully early that I can't get out of bed. After both classes, I feel better. I feel less stressed out. I am in a better mood overall. I like learning the new skills.

I have seen improvement—more muscle tone in my core muscles, and some slightly more flexibility. I can almost touch the floor when I'm bending over in half. I have never even come remotely close to that before. I can do more without getting tired in class. I'm standing up a little straighter (I have TERRIBLE posture). I feel like my body is something useful. I get to spend some time with my sister and my mom. I get a kick out of the look on people's faces when I tell them I'm belly dancing.

It's one way in which I'm trying to take my stomach parts, which keep revolting against my body's permission, and make them behave. Letting my body know that I do care about it.

I guess maybe I took some of the best advice out there: find something you enjoy that also happens to make your heart beat a little faster and your muscles work a little harder. The class, and paying for it, motivates me to go every week, especially since I know people will be counting on me to be there. And maybe, just maybe, I'll exercise once more on my own during the week, moving it up to every other day.

Hm. I might get somewhat fit after all. I didn't want to jinx myself by writing about my plan, but now that I survived the first session, it's time to give myself a little pat on the back—and keep going.

Tonight: off to a belly-dancing performance at the famed Cassandra school, complete with champagne and snacks!