For those of you who are reading for the geriatrics portion of this blog, I apologize.  This is going to be yet another post dedicated to the “Fat” part of my name.  I’m currently working on a Geriatric Academic Career Award (GACA) grant, so all of my geriatrics writing is being funneled into that effort.  If I get it, it will give me fodder for many more geriatrics posts.  

I had a fabulous experience this weekend that I need to share.  After only a month with the trainer, I have started to see benefits!  No, not on the scale (that damn thing keeps going up), but in the most important part–my function!

We live 10-15 minutes from Sea World San Antonio, and as such, have season passes.  They are advertising having over 9 million lights up for the holidays.  And that actually seems accurate.  It is beautiful.  December in San Antonio is the perfect weather for the park–60s-70s outside during the day, and crisp and cool (requiring a light jacket) at night.  We have taken our 2 year old and our 8 month old every weekend this month.  

For those of you unacquainted with Sea World, it has a lot of shows.  You wander through the park grounds and see a few exhibits as a way to break up the shows.  There is a place for preschool/early elementary kids that has a Sesame Street theme with a large playground, splash pad (that is still operational in December–but mostly unused), and costumed characters performing on a stage/walking around.  

This weekend was the first time that my daughter partook in the rides.  She rode the carousel twice on “the blue one” (horse).  She also rode a fairly advanced ride (pictured below) that spun around, went up and down, and back and forth.  We walked past it several times, and each time she consistently asked to ride it.  She even stood patiently in line during 5 or 6 runs of the ride before it was her turn to get on.  She watched with intensity while asking questions about taking turns.  When she finally rode it, she laughed with delight the entire time.  

She was then distracted by what I can only describe as a rave for preschoolers.  The sun had just gone down.  The Christmas lights were shining everywhere, and the main Sesame Street stage was blasting Christmas music, spraying bubbles/snow into the crowd, and characters were dancing in the street.  She was a little unsure of the dancing Cookie Monster, Elmo, Count, etc., so I held her as we danced together. 

We had been on our way to a show called Pets Ahoy, where trained puppies, kitties, ducks, pigs, birds, etc perform tricks for 30 minutes.  She had seen it once already on another visit.  When she found out we were going to Sea World again, the puppies were what got her the most excited.  So I was kinda shocked when she asked to stop at the Sesame Street show while we were walking to the puppy show.  But it was a rave for preschoolers, so lets be real.  I was distracted too.  

All of the sudden, my husband, who had gone ahead to wait in line with our 8 month old, texted me.  It said one word–“HURRY!”  

I knew we had to go fast.  Once they hit capacity, she would not be able to get in to see the puppies.  It was going to be the last show of the night, and she would be heartbroken if she missed it.  

So, I did my best to get her away from the kiddie rave.  Once we broke free from the dance party crowd, I started running while still carrying her.  I told her we were heading to the puppies and cats, and that we had to hurry.  We laughed saying “hurry, faster, hurry!” the whole way to the show.  We got there in time, and met up with my husband and son right before they opened the doors to the theater.  We were some of the last to get in.  And we had fun the whole way there.  

And, once things calmed down, and we reached our seats, I realized something magical had just happened.  I ran at a decent pace for about a quarter of a mile while carrying a nearly 30 pound toddler and talking/laughing.  I didn’t get winded.  I didn’t feel like I had to sit down or take it easy afterwards.  I just kept going and having fun.  

This is why I am working out.  For more magical moments like this with my kids.  If one month of exercise can yield a magical moment like that, I can’t wait what to see what a whole new lifestyle can do.  

It has been a little while since my last post.  I am now another year older.  I traveled to Savannah for Thanksgiving with 2 small children (I’m not calling it vacation because it was a lot of work).  I’ve also been called “Clark Griswold” by my neighbors for my new strange obsession with putting up lights in the front yard. 

In this time, I’ve also learned a lot about my fitbit.  Did you know that a fitbit can confuse your elevated heart rate the morning after drinking with exercise?  It also confuses pushing a double stroller over cobblestone streets with bike riding.  If only it recognized toddler wrestling as the intense form of exercise that it truly is…

But dear readers, despite taking a short respite from FatGeriatrician.com, I have not taken a break from the gym!  

I’ve continued working out before the crack of dawn–hitting the gym at 5:00am at least 3 days a week for a month now.  Crazy, huh?  The 4:30am alarm is a harsh mistress.  

If you remember from post about spin class, I am motivated by the phrase, “remember your intention for doing this.”  

If you will indulge me a little, I will tell a tale of how I found my intention.

A few months ago I found myself in a candlelight kundalini yoga meditation class.   I know how that sounds–I’m not really a hippy-dippy, new age, weirdo.  But, I’d been a bit of a postpartum emotional mess, so I was trying new ways to calm myself down.   

The instructor wore all white, and had an almost cult-like happiness about her.  She took us through some brief stretches, and then we entered a 21 minute long meditation that was “for the heart and to gain clarity”.  She had us “set an intention” for the session.  I thought of my kids.  We chanted a mantra: 

Aad Guray Nameh
Jugaad Guray Nameh
Sat Guray Nameh
Siri Guru Dayvay Nameh

It meant something along the lines of “I bow to the wisdom within myself, the wisdom through the ages, the true wisdom, and the great unseen wisdom.”  This felt super weird at first.  I thought I might be getting punked.  But after the first 5 minutes or so, I stopped trying to sneakily open my eyes to see if it was a joke and everyone else was watching me be ridiculous, and I let myself get into it.  

The 21 minutes flew by, and part-way through tears just started streaming down my cheeks.  I wasn’t sure what was happening to me or why I was crying.  But then, the “remember your intention” went through my head again.  All of the sudden I could see my little boy’s smiling face.  Then it started slowly spinning.  It looked a little like this:

When the meditation session was over, I felt more calm and centered than I ever have.  I began to realize that my kids WERE my reason for pretty much everything now–and I needed to start being kind and gentle to myself so I could be kind and gentle with them.  

I’ve kept going to these weekly candlight meditation sessions.  And that smiling image has popped back into my head several times–usually when someone says something about “your intention.”  

I didn’t link “my intention” mental image from yoga to exercise until that fateful day at spin class when the instructor repeated “remember your intention for being here” like a mantra.  My sons smiling, spinning face continued to pop into my head, and I would tear up and pedal harder.  All of the sudden, I knew I needed to take charge of my physical health.  And I needed to do it so I can be present for my babies.  

Now when that 4:30 am alarm blares, I fight getting up for a few minutes, but eventually I remember my intention, swing my legs out of bed, and hit the gym.