M. Suzanne Terry

In many ways, this month is going exactly as I had planned. I am finding workable ways to become less sedentary. I am having fun with it.  I even had a good time at the grocery store. Dance is a regular part of my life again.

In some ways, though, it’s been hard. Of course, it’s always a challenge to change a habit or add a new one. It’s been more humbling than I expected. It’s disheartening to experience how out-of-shape I am when I try to reintroduce things that I used to do all the time.

Friday was all of those things.

The theme of the dance party this week was music from my childhood.  I put on my Girl Child of the 80s mix on Spotify, and I prepared to be transported back to the days when my sister, our neighbor Ginger, and I would choreograph dances to our favorite songs. We would even videotape ourselves and force our parents to watch them (you’re welcome, Mom and Dad). We had a few routines, but mostly, it was freestyle.

Friday’s dance party lasted about ten minutes. 80s music is exhausting, particularly when a person tries to do the same routine for Material Girl she used to do when she was in junior high as if she’s still that skinny and energetic.

Now, I don’t expect at 39 to have the same energy that I had at 13.  I did expect to make it through the song, though.

*sigh*

Most of the time, I find these moments motivating. Recognizing my current limit just gives me a starting point for gauging progress.

But this week was rough. I wasn’t looking for a starting point.  I was looking to have a little fun and then go on with my evening. Instead, I got exhausted, frustrated and pouty. I quit, stretched a little, had a glass of wine, and went to bed early. I regret nothing.

Well, except maybe the cultivation of a lifestyle that makes it impossible for me to get through a simple dance routine. Maybe I regret that a little. I’m sure in a few months, when I’m in better shape and I am able to make it through multiple songs, or maybe even in a few days when I am surprised to find something less difficult than I thought it would be, I will look back on this day and be able to extend grace to myself.

Right now, though, I’m just discouraged.

I’m committing to 31 days of movement…even the ones that suck.