Tonight I am going to tell you how having an ex-something (boyfriend, girlfriend, friend, or annoying co-worker) can truly help your fitness level. Now, this will not be one of those whiny,styled right out of Bridget Jones sort of monologs about how I dumped that Nintendo-playing, pot-selling fool and went on my own personal journey of self discovery and recovery. You want that shit, go somewhere with a puppy playing with a butterfly on the banner. This is going to be a story featuring a heavy dose of “you shoulda known better” as well as proving, once again, that I am the one who can make the biggest ass out of myself with no help necessary.
Ages ago, I made a poor moving decision. The decision that was poor was not the move itself (THAT has turned out to be a hell of a stepping stone) but the company I hauled along. It was already a bad relationship because it was a REVENGE relationship. The one you get into so you can wave it in the face of the “I will say I love you once we are happily separated” guy and say “SEE MOTHERFUCKER! I can get another one LIKE THAT!”.
Those are not good reasons to pick up a dude.
Anyway, he had an eye on becoming an herbal entrepreneur and kept friends to help him out with that. I tried to tell him that entrepreneur don’t have to sample their goods quite so excessively, however I was just the dumb bitch pulling in the regular paycheck.
We were coming back from fuck-if-I-remember-where to his friends house in an unfamiliar town in Colorado at 11 PM. Like, I drove in two hours earlier with poor directional sense sort of unfamiliar. Some of us had indulged heavily in some herbs while others merely had a contact buzz due to excessive paranoia brought on by social anxiety (HI!). Those bastards were horsing around and ignoring my requests for directions and we were coming rapidly to a light. I finally had enough to cause me to TURN AROUND in a SPEEDING car and lose my shit all over them. I turned from cute-ish quiet girlfriend to screaming banshee in a heart beat.
In that same heart beat; I blew through that red light and was t-boned by a very unhappy white SUV. Totaled the SHIT out of my year old car, gave myself a concussion, and caused some fairly permanent bodily injuries as well as started the WORST bout of depression I have suffered as of yet.
(Bonus points of not being medicated at that time of my life: It is REALLY hard to be an asshole to a young woman who is being propped up against a gas pump and WAILING like all of her family were just executed in front of her. Even my boyfriend at the time wrung some compassion out of his lousy rat-eaten heart.)
The end result of that incident (aside from providing an incredibly detailed list of DO NOT WANT) is that I know am in possession of a body that feels ten years older than it is if I do not treat it nice. Make no mistake, I mean nice. Not a Vatican nice. A Stonehenge sort of nice. Quiet (if you ignore the road next to it now), scenic, unearthly in it’s majesty, and they may have sacrificed virgins there.
If I have not run/walked/jogged/hiked in a while my body lets me know. My back sounds like a stack of kindling being broken for fire starting. I turn my head and my neck sounds like those scenes in movies where the hero is taking care of the bad guy’s body-guards. My arms start failing to reach very far behind my back if I take a break from yoga and strength training. My knees start to bitch at me. It’s a combination of ten years and what feels like 100 extra pounds falling on my body all in one highly annoying and ego damaging package.
Most people need to play some sort of sport to get that feeling. Or, you know, GAIN 100 extra pounds and age. Nope! Not me! I just made troubling terrible decisions and made sure I did them hard enough to impact my future.
The upside of this horrible loop is that I tend to keep a semi regular sort of routine going that, while it does not do much improve my fitness, it keeps me from feeling like I am dying. Some days it gets ramped up and I feel all glowey and proud of myself for a few weeks–and then I buy a new video game and re-visit my favorite comfy chair with the convenient speakers and the easy to reach spot for my diet coke.
I have not gotten to the point where I can thank this individual for his lasting influence on my life; but I can think of that car without crying.
THAT my friends, is how an Ex-something can impact your fitness level. It is not a happy story. It is not a terribly UNHAPPY story; everyone survived after all and both insurance companies bought me and the annoyed SUV guy new cars. It is just a fact. Remember that any occurrence caused by others can impact your future in worse ways than you may think. At the time, I thought it just formed a damn fine foundation for my lasting hate. Now, I know better and hope no one else has to find out. The odds of that are slim, but I had to put the idea out there.
Let’s go run a trail. Or hike quickly…I just spent five hours on Bioshock.