Less Is More
I laugh at myself when I look back at the workout path I’ve traveled. In the very beginning I knew nothing about working out. I just knew I was overweight, out of shape, and needed to burn calories. My plan of action was to try every machine at the gym. Every class at the gym. It was very typically for me to workout five to six days a week. Sometimes even taking back-to-back weight training and cardio classes. Sometimes being in the gym upward of three to four hours. Insane! Anyone who knows me well knows how I am. I go hard. Once I’m into or onto something fugetaboutit!
My workout craze was just that a craze. Oh my goodness, I recall the first boot camp class I took. I was about 290 pounds and had only been working out for about a month. Can you say, deconditioned? And to boot, I pumped up a couple of friends and my teenaged daughter to join me. Wow. What a train wreck! We all made it out, alive — barely.
When I think about it now, I see how ineffective my workouts really were. I was working out for long periods of time with no focus. No road map. During this time, I got sick with cold/flu like symptoms all the time. Wonder why? My diet was questionable, I rarely got enough sleep, and I overworked the same muscle groups. On and on. So, as workouts were concerned, those workouts were ineffective. But, in retrospect, they were effective in other ways: I was meeting people and making friends at the gym, learning about my body, and my fortitude.
While I am a little disappointed at myself for taking the past six months off from the gym. Honestly, the time away was just what I needed. I needed a break. A reboot. Now I’m more focused. My workouts are my purposeful. Thanks to my hiatus, I realize that it’s less about how many days or hours I spend in the gym and more about how I spend the time there. It’s also about how I take care of myself in between workouts: eating well, proper rest, etc. Quite frankly, it’s a relief knowing that I don’t have to be at the gym everyday for several hours at a time. Gone are those days. Less is more.
Helpful articles:
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Less Is More: Is Too Much Exercise Bad for You?
Why Four Workouts a Week May Be Better Than Six
Chrisetta Mosley
I am a product – and now a survivor – of childhood obesity. As a child, my family always told me that my extra weight was merely baby fat and I’d eventually grow out of it. I never did. Instead, my childhood is filled with memories of not being able to ride a bike, flattening its training wheels from being over the recommended weight, and avoiding P.E. classes by any means necessary. For years, I wore my fatness like a wounded soldier wears a Purple Heart - with pride. I owned the look. I dressed it up. I worked the room. There wasn't a skinny girl who intimidated me. I made sure my hair was laid just right. Nails polished. Outfits coordinated to the tee. Accessories to compliment every outfit. But everyone has a breaking point, and mine came in the spring of 2004 when I tipped the scale at nearly 400 pounds 388 to be exact. I was MISERABLE trapped inside of that body. I no longer wore my Purple Heart with pride. Rather, I was ashamed and frightened. Ashamed that I had allowed food to become my everything – frightened I would die because of it. Drastic times called for drastic measures... Today, I’m bound and determined to live a better, healthier, active lifestyle. I realize I’m no longer a passenger in my life, I’m the driver. I’m overcoming my inhibitions and I’m slowly but surely saying farewell to my old childhood nemesis, obesity. For once and for all, Farewell Fatso!