It feels like the whole world is on fire right now. Civil unrest and natural disasters have been nudging the stressometer up notch by notch in our collective unconsciousness for awhile now, I think. I remember reading newspaper articles years ago about the Cold War and how constant anxiety about the bomb was increasing the daily stress that Americans (and I'm sure Russians too) lived with, like a sort of low level whirring sound in the brain that you forget is there, but that never really recedes.
Headlines this weekend about that fool, that monster, that idiot in Florida and the violence that has ensued since he burned the Koran pumped up the jam just enough to flip me out completely. It just feels like open season now, not just on Americans world wide, but on the whole species Human Being. As it has always been, I guess.
I thought about all this while I was running this morning. Three miles in and I started to think about stocking up on bottled water. Five miles in and I started to think about the talk I need to have with my children about all this and how I don't want to. Seven miles in and I remembered the reason why I started running in the first place.
Many of you who haven't known me for forever find it hard to believe that once upon a time I weighed around 50 pounds more than I do now. Pregnancy with multiples, and a marriage that was shredding itself to bits turned into a lust for bagels, maple syrup and low fat dulce la leche frozen yogurt that I deluded myself into thinking was ok for me to eat on a daily basis. And then 9/11 happened.
My babies were small then. I remember thinking, if I have to run out of a burning building with one kid under each arm, would I be able to do it?
And the answer was no. I was too overweight and out of shape to run and get my babies and myself to safety if I ever needed to.
So I went for a walk. A very long walk. And a few days later I went for a run. A very short run. And I threw out the bagels and all the high carb crap I had let my PCOS insulin resistant body get addicted to and I slowly became my old, healthy-weight self again. Strong, thin, and robust. My own personal best for my own physical self.
People, look. I don't know what's coming next, none of us do. But I do know that no matter what comes, and also no matter what doesn't come, the species human being, all of us, deserve the right to be our own personal best. For me it's being a runner who weighs 115 lbs. For you it may mean being a walker or a tennis player who weighs 135 lbs. But whatever your own personal health best is, I urge you to acheive it. It is better for your fertility. It will be better for your pregnancy and your baby, God willing. It will be better for you no matter what life brings. Really.
Think about maybe joining in and doing what The AFA staff will be doing for NIAW. Think about doing a Fertility Bootcamp, if that feels like a fit for you. Think about doing something. And then just do it.
I don't know what's coming next.