Catching up and refocusing

Radio silence here for the last month, so it's time for a catch-up.

I've been content for the last few months to rest. I remember the first time I joined Weight Watchers, my leader talked about the "scenic route" rather than the "highway." Well, I've been taking the scenic route. I've been enjoying summer cocktails. I haven't been exercising much. I haven't even been tracking my food. My weight loss has been on vacation, along with my ambition. I've been content because I'm 80 pounds down from my highest — and I feel so much better.

But now, after a rest, I can say that while I'm a whole lot healthier than I was, I'm not as healthy as I want to be.

For some of the summer, my husband and I were walking and biking, but then we had a hot spell and got out of the habit. Recently, I've done almost nothing. That will change Sunday, when Paul and I walk our first 5K.

My original plan was to do the Boston Diva Dash on September 6 with a team from my Massachusetts bariatric support group. But then almost everyone who'd signed up couldn't do it, leaving only me and one other woman. I checked in with her and found out she'd be running most of the race, which meant I'd be by myself since I can run, at best guess, about 1 mile total — about a third of the 5K.

That was not what I signed up for. I wavered: should I back out or should I push through my first 5K (and obstacle course!) by myself? I decided I didn't want to do it alone — but I didn't want to give up doing a 5K. I asked my husband if he'd do one with me; he of course said yes.

Every morning on the way to work, I pass the house where Louisa May Alcott wrote "Little Women." The Orchard House has been advertising a 5K/10K on September 14, just one weekend later than the Diva Dash. Perfect solution.

So Sunday morning, after photographing the morning's activities at the church where I work, Paul and I will change into workout gear and drive a few miles to Concord. I'm guessing we'll alternate walking and running, but if we walk the whole way, I'm perfectly fine with that. I've never said in my head, "I'm running a 5K this fall." I've said, "I'm doing a 5K this fall."

Then on Monday I start working with my new trainer, and I've committed to myself that I'll start back in cardio at the gym two other days next week. With the days getting shorter, it's less and less likely that I'll head outside for cardio after dinner, so back to the gym I go.

I'm both nervous and excited about working with a new trainer. I'm nervous because overcoming my worries and my embarrassment about my size and lack of shape is a habit I've had for a long time — and I don't think my mind has caught up to my current size and fitness ability. I have lots more progress I can make — but I'm very aware of how far I've come.

Still, of course I'm nervous that he'll push me too far, to my physical or mental breaking point. Does that sound dramatic? But I once took a strength-training class that had me crying every week and doing squats until my legs collapsed.

With that memory pretty close to the surface, I told my new trainer that I won't be miserable and I won't compete with other people. He can push me, and I'll work hard, but not to the point of misery. He said he understands because he won't be miserable, either. Perfect.

I'm excited, too, to use this as a reboot, as a kick-start to refocusing on my health. In real life, I avoid highways whenever possible, and I'm realizing that's probably true metaphorically as well. But I'm eager to move from a 25-mile-per-hour zone to, say, a 40 or 45. I can still enjoy the scenery while being a little more focused.