“Good habits are worth being fanatical about.”
— John Irving
Oh là là! The one-year anniversary of my retirement slipped by without my noticing it. I was busy celebrating my sister-in-law’s retirement, also from teaching, and entertaining house guests. Well then, it’s been a year now: a whole year of doing as I please (mostly), of cultivating my talents and passions (well, some of them), of sleeping in as late as I like (almost always)—a very good year indeed.
I started out this first year of retirement with two goals: to become a consistent, daily writer, and to become very physically fit. I had vague notions of becoming a fitness instructor and offering on-site exercise classes to teachers after school. Well…
The good news is that the writing is going swimmingly. Most days, I spend at least two hours at my computer, either writing or editing a draft. And while I could do much better with this blog (and I shall), I’m moving steadily toward my goal of becoming a professionally-published fiction author. What really gave me a boost was participating in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) last November. In order to write a 50,000-word novel in thirty days, I had to write for at least two hours each day. And I did, thus establishing a writing habit that stuck.
The bad news is that a series of visitors, the holidays, a back injury, and more visitors—plus human nature and the siren song of the internet—have pulled me away from the gym. That is, I have allowed myself to be pulled away; there’s nothing to be gained by blaming others for one’s own faults, eh? My girth is expanding, and it’s high time to do something about that.
Here’s my plan: I shall henceforth exercise for an hour every day. That’s it. I mean, really—as a retired person, I have no excuse for not devoting at least an hour a day to moving around in this body I hope to inhabit for the next thirty years. Eight hours of sleep per night plus one hour of exercise still leaves me fifteen hours per day to do everything else. Unless I am ill, by which I mean feverish, I can certainly work in an hour’s activity each day. On a busy day, I can divide that hour up into smaller segments if need be.
And by exercise I mean a brisk walk, a run, an exercise DVD, a Zumba class, a spin class, weight training, golf, yoga, belly dancing, mowing the lawn…anything that’s somewhat strenuous. Yesterday’s Zumba class at the Y was quite strenuous, and this morning’s spin class kicked my plump behind—but in a good way. Anna, our wonderful cycling instructor, said today, “You’re only one workout away from a good mood.” Isn’t that the truth? I always walk out of the Y feeling a bit giddy and delightfully relaxed, no matter what the weather. And if I’m going to pay $40 per month for membership (a bargain, in my estimation), I really ought to go to the gym most days.
My hypothesis is that by working in an hour of exercise—Every. Single. Day.—I should be able to lose this extra bit of writer’s padding I’ve acquired, even if I continue my nightly glass of wine and other foodie indulgences. I do eat a healthy diet overall, but the occasional cup of clam chowder does cross my lips. So, I’ll check back in a month from now, and will do my very best to avoid humiliation by sticking to the plan. Does anyone care to join me in the an-hour-a-day pledge?