It has become exceptionally clear to me that I will pounce upon any and every opportunity to be healthtarded that presents itself. This impulse is served by both internal and external forces. Internal forces are difficult to ignore (c'mon me, let's do that thing we love - nothing!) but also have the fewest consequences when they are ignored (fuck you, me...I'm going to do something, with or without you!). External forces, like life, are a little trickier. They are also difficult to ignore, but unlike the internal forces, sometimes shit actually happens depending on what a person does.
For example, this past weekend we had Dan's sister and her family over. She has a 3-year-old son, so whenever he is involved in any plans, we basically just try to keep up and prevent him from accidentally killing himself every two minutes. He is of the rare ilk that cannot often bear to sit in front of the television for long periods or otherwise be stationary. He requires movement, and more importantly, he requires being outside. It was 92 degrees out this Saturday, but goddammit, this kid wanted to be outside. He has no concept of heat stroke or, you know, death, so he fidgeted endlessly while his mother sunscreen'd him, then proceeded to work his way through a huge playground like I work my way through a plate of rice-a-roni. Thankfully, when we had spent over an hour at the park and his naptime was approaching, he did not throw a shit-fit when we left the playground, and we happily returned to the house, where we watched some of Cars and waited for the child to finish his tiny servings of various random foods (this kid is about as picky an eater as I am, which would be amazing, except he's 3, so that shit is normal). When he finally fell asleep, we had about two hours to kill before he would require us to go do more things.
These two hours could have been spent doing anything in the house that didn't make noise. I could have easily stolen away to hop on the elliptical and listen to my amazing workout jams via headphones without disturbing anyone. I could have done some high-intensity (but nearly stationary) ab work. Shit, the kid's not mine, I could have left the house and gone for a very, very sweaty walk. But instead, I did what everyone else did: I rested. I engaged in conversation not based on repeating a three-year-old's observations of the world around him, watched some programming not appropriate for children, and ate the grown-up lunch. I knew that from about 4pm to 8pm, I would be on again, and I would need all the energy I could muster. So I rested. That evening, after the child had rather maturely announced that he was tired, so we should pause Cars and finish it in the morning (I shit you not, he clearly and casually stated this intention, then marched into the bedroom...it was fucking hilarious), the events of his nap time pretty much continued into the evening. We watched a movie, talked, and eventually I read a little Harry Potter and went to sleep. The next day, we did the same shit again, only after the family left in the afternoon, I was basically comatose for the rest of the evening. I had no plans, no requirements, no commitments, nothing. I sat, laid, and plopped. Not necessarily in that order.
Now with an entire day of retrospect, I can still say that I was not overestimating how absolutely exhausted I was by the end of the whirlwind 30-hour visit. But I look back at the activities and I wonder why the hell I was so tired. On Saturday, I stood in the shade at the park with my desperately-panting dogs. That evening, I went to the library and colored. Sunday morning, I slowly walked around the Museum of Science. There was no triathlon to be run, just some casual family activities. Granted, I'm not used to trucking around my ass trying to keep up with the ADHD-like behavior of a toddler, but it really wasn't that difficult. In fact, I enjoyed all of it and was happy throughout.
But examining things closer, it becomes all too clear where my exhaustion came from. It wasn't that I was tired from being active; I was tired from being social. Interacting with other humans is so incredibly tiring for me, you would not fucking believe it. I can't really explain why, nor can I justify why a small list of people do not make me tired when they're around (these are, naturally, those closest to me). I don't know why it's so difficult for me to just be with people. It's fucking exhausting. If I know that I have social plans on a Saturday, I will consciously avoid making plans Friday night, just because I know I can't book back to back like that. It doesn't work for me. Even if the two events are inherently different - say, a family dinner for one and some friends at the movies for the other - I still feel so drained after the first event that I find it difficult to power through the second.
Thankfully, a few things are exempt from this. Work doesn't count. The structures of my job and the blessed ability to isolate outside of class time make it easy to recharge in small bursts, and teaching actually energizes me as opposed to drains me. Of course, there are plenty of instances in and around teaching that are huge energy sinks, but the actual instruction, collaboration, and discussion-leadership in teaching is a source of energy for me. So work doesn't tire me out. But basically everything else where I'm interacting with people does. Which kind of sucks.
Dan loves being social. He doesn't need it desperately, but he truly enjoys it, much like I imagine most normal humans do. If he doesn't leave the house for an entire day, he gets cabin fever pretty acutely. I don't understand this feeling, nor does he understand how I can stay inside literally all day and be fine (happy, even). Now I know where his nephew gets it from.
The problem with being exhausted from extended social circumstances is that they happen all the time. That's life, son. It's much easier for me to get into exercise and push myself to do work or get moving if I'm isolated. When I have social commitments scattered throughout my schedule, those become my periods of activity, and I use the remaining free time to recover from the social events. If I go out to lunch with friends on a Saturday, I am much more likely to nap, watch a movie, and/or sit around on the computer for the rest of the evening than I am to suggest going out again or even just being active around the house. I went out; I'm tired. That's how that shit works.
There is another insidious feature of social engagements that I've mentioned briefly before: everyone, myself included, always needs to eat shitty food when we get together. Hey, want to grab lunch this week? Why don't we make a date for that restaurant we both love? Why don't we go celebrate by horking down 1000 calories? No one ever offers to bring offer a nice salad or to join me in preparing a delicious home-cooked meal. That shit does not happen, ever. People do that at home, if ever, so when they go see friends, they want to use that time to indulge. Which makes sense. Unfortunately, it adds up pretty quickly if you have more than two friends, which I'd like to think I do.
I'll give you an example. Tuesday of last week, I had a chicken finger date with two friends of mine. We met up at Kelly's Roast Beef. It was fucking delicious. I got the kid's meal, but it doesn't matter, it's still pretty bad for you. Then, Thursday of the same week, I made plans to meet up with another friend; she suggested going out for lunch, but I talked her down to coffee. I don't even drink coffee, but a "cold beverage on a hot fucking day date" sounds a little geh. I had a Coke, which isn't the worst thing in the world, especially compared to another bout of Chicken Finger Influenza (tastiest. illness. ever.), but it's still a soda I wouldn't have had if I had stayed home. By myself. Like a healthy person...right?
Then we get to the weekend. Dan's family arrived Saturday morning and left Sunday afternoon. In that time, we managed to order in chinese food, italian (for me, chicken fingers, of course), and then BBQ (fried chicken for me, of course). We could have prepared food at the house, but again, that's the shit you do in your own domicile. They don't come to Boston very often, so we all felt the impulse to eat our way through many restaurants, some favorites and some new experiences. So we did. I did what I could with the meals I selected (ate smaller portions, took the skin off the fried chicken, drank milk or Pepsi Max instead of full-calorie soda) but I was still doing the exact fucking opposite of everything I've been running my mouth about. So when they left on Sunday and all I could bear to do was rest some more, I (understandably, I think), felt rather shitty about myself and did not have a very positive start to the week.
But this is the bullshit that happens all the time. And if I can't find a way to deal with it, then I lose. I lose at whatever this thing is I'm trying to do. As much as part of me would enjoy being the fitness-nut hermit that lives on a craggy mountain precipice, I know that it's not plausible nor healthy to isolate myself to the point of becoming asocial. I like these people whom I choose to see, which is why I choose to see them, so I have to find a way to incorporate the social element into the life I want to be living. If it's hard to do this shit with just Dan around, how the fuck am I supposed to make it so that my entire social circle is on board with my fitness and wellbeing goals? "Oh, I'm sorry guys, I can't go out to eat for another two weeks because of my eating plan. Do you want to go for a walk instead? I have Slim Fast snack bars in the cabinet for when we get baa-a-a-a-ack!"
On a side note, the Double Dutch Chocolate ones are actually really good. They're not candy bars - let's not be rediculos - but they're pretty good.
But yeah, it's hard to figure out how to be social and not derail all the shit I'm trying to do. Of course, as a friend-of-my-brother's-and-former-childhood-tormentor-turned-facebook-friend pointed out to me, it's not all or nothing. You can't approach this shit with the black-or-white mindset, because that sets you up to fail. Going to Kelly's last week didn't "ruin" anything. Ordering out this whole weekend, while unwise, didn't "ruin" anything either. They were negatives that should be accounted for in other ways, like other meals being healthier or workouts being harder/longer. But to determine how to make the negatives be less common...that's a tricky one. And it's something I'm still working on.
I'd probably write more, but Gus has been slowly working his way into a position that makes it very difficult to type. His body is against my leg with his entire head wrapped around the side of my monitor so that I have to move the Firefox window just to be able to see what I'm typing. He is looking soulfully into my eyes as I write this. Okay...he can haz attenshunz. Night all.
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