Trusting myself (or not)

A couple of weeks ago, I started skipping while I was walking Ruby. Then it turned into jogging. When I got back to my house, I was able to stop. I didn’t keep going to burn more calories or push myself further. I purposefully moved, and when I was done, I was done.

It might seem like an insignificant thing, but for me, that was HUGE. Like groundbreakingly massive. If you’ve read any of my posts, you’ll know that I’ve been in recovery from orthorexia and disordered eating since June/July-ish 2021. I stopped all forms of exercise cold turkey back then, and haven’t returned since. So this minor skipping and jogging episode was a big deal. I had tiptoed back into some form of conscious exercise and trusted that I wouldn’t weaponize it against myself. I came through for me.

Last night, while laying in bed, trying to fall asleep, I started thinking about my stationary bike in the basement, and how I haven’t touched it in almost 8 months. I just downloaded a new audiobook, and that used to be my favorite biking accompaniment—listening to books or podcasts while pushing myself harder and faster and longer. I wondered if I was in a stable enough place to get back on the bike again this morning, just for 15 minutes, to listen while I ride.

I could keep the intensity real low this time, though. I wouldn’t do any intervals. I could cover up the distance and calorie burn displays. I could even wear long pants instead of my knee-length bike shorts, because I wouldn’t be going hard enough to break a real sweat.

I could put all these precautions in place.

I could.

But I can’t.

I am afraid of what will happen if I get back on that bike.

I trusted that I would stop jogging when I got back to my house a few weeks ago, but I also knew that I had Ruby to hold me accountable. She rarely wants to do more than one lap around the neighborhood these days, and when she’s done, so am I. I had a failsafe.

On the bike, it’s just me. And I don’t know if I trust myself enough to stop after 15 minutes.

This is one of those paradoxical situations where I can’t tell if I should to listen to this uneasiness and NOT get back on the bike, because I know it might trigger me…or if I shouldn’t listen to this uneasiness, because it’s the voice of fear, and I SHOULD get back on the bike because I’m not the same person I was 8 months ago.

I’m trying to figure this out by asking myself WHY. Why do I want to try biking again? What’s my real motivation?

One part of me says that it’s to get an extra 15 mins of listening to my new audiobook. I have such few opportunities throughout the day that it’ll take me two weeks, under normal circumstances, to finish a five hour book.

Another part of me says it’s because, well…I’m not getting enough exercise to be “healthy” right now. With Ruby only wanting to do one lap around the neighborhood in the mornings, I only get in 20 minutes of purposeful movement on most days. Sometimes we’re able to do a second walk when I’m working from home. And we haven’t been up in the mountains for 3 weeks, which means we haven’t done any of our epic hikes in that same length of time. 20 minutes a day can’t be enough. Bodies need more movement than that.

This second part of me is what’s loudest right now. The audiobook…is just a rationalization.

My motivation is a should, even though there’s a want buried in there somewhere, too. Actually, there are probably multiple wants. The podcast is one of them, but there’s also the still-present but suppressed want to lose weight. The want to fit in my skinny jeans again and not wear leggings to work every day. To feel the sense of accomplishment that comes with reaching a lower number on the scale. To go back to my old self-identity that I carried for 38+ years.

That’s the orthorexia and body shame talking. I hear it. I feel it. It’s familiar and that’s why it scares me so much. I know how easily I can start listening to it again.

I think that this morning, I am going to trust the me that’s not that voice. The one that says “you’re not ready yet if you’re still having these thoughts.” It’s hard to tell if this is the right voice. If I SHOULD trust myself more to be able to stop and not get sucked into the self-destructive cycle again. But I just don’t know.

So I am going to put on my leggings and go walk my dog instead. We might skip, we might jog, we might do neither.

I know enough to know my triggers now. But I also know I have more recovery work to do.