I am unsure what response is good, here, but yay!
In a move that came out of bloody nowhere, my Hub started exercising today. Holy shit.
He'd told me to make sure he woke up when I got up, and refused to tell me why, except to tell me he had "plans" and "stuff to do". Very mysterious. He seemed puzzled this morning when he noticed that I had my jogging things on instead of my yoga togs, whereas I was puzzled that he was just now noticing what clothes went with each activity, since I've had the same basic outfits for years now.
"Aren't you doing yoga today?"
"No, I'm too tired. I need to wake myself the hell up and that requires jogging."
"Oh."
That was the end of that, until he showed up in the living room with the air of a man who's been forced to change his plans, hauled out the freeweight set, and started stretching.
The words "could have knocked me over with a feather" apply here. I just gaped at him.
"What?" he asked.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm exercising. What does it look like?"
"Oh." I couldn't think of what else to say, so I kissed him and went off to the treadmill in a daze. Midway through my jog, it belatedly occurred to me that he had meant to use the treadmill today, thinking that I'd be in the living room doing yoga. My last-minute change of plans, however, didn't mean that he aborted his mission, he just switched to lifting weights.
I'm so proud and astonished, I could just bust. And seriously, this isn't dependent on him continuing this stuff, or anything like that: the fact that he thought to do this and then went ahead and did it is just amazing. I have never, in all the time I've known him, seen him undertake exercise willingly. He makes annual sad noises about his gut, or being out of shape, or what have you, but besides an excellent tendency to eat more healthily than not he hasn't made a move on any of these complaints, and I was fine with him not doing so. I figured that as long as we kept the healthy eating thing going, and his general health continued to be just fine, and he was willing to truck around Chicago with me on our epic walks, then sure, no problem, whatever.
I'm just, like, WHOA.
So, currently, I'm crossing my fingers. I am not going to push. I am not going to be weird about this. I am going to give him love and support and that's it, that's the plan. I'm also going to keep to a set schedule of cardio vs. yoga from now on, since apparently he will be wanting to switch out with me, or at least have the chance to do so.
I just can't help hoping that this is the start of something cool. I like to watch him try new things, and it would be utterly cool if he could be my exercise buddy. If maybe someday we could join a gym and go together. Oh, my silly dreams.
In other news, I tried something new yesterday: I set aside a scheduled time to write, put on headphones and listened to "meditation" music (non-distracty, very important) and worked for two hours. That was okay. I liked it. It was quiet time of a sort, which I don't get a lot of at our place. I got to noodle around on my story, which was awesome.
Afterward, I had what I referred to as "pretty pretty princess time": I put on my fuzzy robe, washed up, brushed my teeth, trimmed my toenails, filed my nails, and then annointed myself with various lotions and oils. Ahhhh. Nice. I dearly want a new set of pajamas-- well, I take that back, I'd really rather have a new bedroom, but that's coming up in a few months.
Speaking of which, I'd better get back to work. Gotta get the rent money.
He'd told me to make sure he woke up when I got up, and refused to tell me why, except to tell me he had "plans" and "stuff to do". Very mysterious. He seemed puzzled this morning when he noticed that I had my jogging things on instead of my yoga togs, whereas I was puzzled that he was just now noticing what clothes went with each activity, since I've had the same basic outfits for years now.
"Aren't you doing yoga today?"
"No, I'm too tired. I need to wake myself the hell up and that requires jogging."
"Oh."
That was the end of that, until he showed up in the living room with the air of a man who's been forced to change his plans, hauled out the freeweight set, and started stretching.
The words "could have knocked me over with a feather" apply here. I just gaped at him.
"What?" he asked.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm exercising. What does it look like?"
"Oh." I couldn't think of what else to say, so I kissed him and went off to the treadmill in a daze. Midway through my jog, it belatedly occurred to me that he had meant to use the treadmill today, thinking that I'd be in the living room doing yoga. My last-minute change of plans, however, didn't mean that he aborted his mission, he just switched to lifting weights.
I'm so proud and astonished, I could just bust. And seriously, this isn't dependent on him continuing this stuff, or anything like that: the fact that he thought to do this and then went ahead and did it is just amazing. I have never, in all the time I've known him, seen him undertake exercise willingly. He makes annual sad noises about his gut, or being out of shape, or what have you, but besides an excellent tendency to eat more healthily than not he hasn't made a move on any of these complaints, and I was fine with him not doing so. I figured that as long as we kept the healthy eating thing going, and his general health continued to be just fine, and he was willing to truck around Chicago with me on our epic walks, then sure, no problem, whatever.
I'm just, like, WHOA.
So, currently, I'm crossing my fingers. I am not going to push. I am not going to be weird about this. I am going to give him love and support and that's it, that's the plan. I'm also going to keep to a set schedule of cardio vs. yoga from now on, since apparently he will be wanting to switch out with me, or at least have the chance to do so.
I just can't help hoping that this is the start of something cool. I like to watch him try new things, and it would be utterly cool if he could be my exercise buddy. If maybe someday we could join a gym and go together. Oh, my silly dreams.
In other news, I tried something new yesterday: I set aside a scheduled time to write, put on headphones and listened to "meditation" music (non-distracty, very important) and worked for two hours. That was okay. I liked it. It was quiet time of a sort, which I don't get a lot of at our place. I got to noodle around on my story, which was awesome.
Afterward, I had what I referred to as "pretty pretty princess time": I put on my fuzzy robe, washed up, brushed my teeth, trimmed my toenails, filed my nails, and then annointed myself with various lotions and oils. Ahhhh. Nice. I dearly want a new set of pajamas-- well, I take that back, I'd really rather have a new bedroom, but that's coming up in a few months.
Speaking of which, I'd better get back to work. Gotta get the rent money.
posted by Meg at
11:26 AM
1 Comments:
TCB definitely needs to start working out again, too, although I doubt we'd ever do anything together (he's a foot taller than I, so walking/jogging/hiking is rather difficult). Still, perhaps when I get my workouts together and really get some results, he'll be inspired, too...you've given me new hope!
By
Denise, at 4:11 PM
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