Liz's Lesson Learned: To Know

If I knew then what I know now, I would have treasured times gone by.

I, like most folk, took so many things for granted. For example, by my birthday (November 27th), the weather would be cool enough for a jacket or coat. (I looked up the weather for my early childhood years, and it confirmed my memories.)  The leaves began to turn shades of fall in late September or early October. Grandmom made ice cream from the first snow, and she made preserves from the plums gathered from the tree in our backyard.

I should have treasured the times when we had four distinct seasons more, because today, global warming has everything topsy-turvy, and some predict that we will come to a point where all the seasons will meld into one gigantic ball of fire. This is significant to me because I don’t like the heat of summer. I love the beautiful colors of the flowers that bloom, and when the sky is blue, it is really blue. The daylight lasts longer, and butterflies are pretty cool. But the heat!

Okay, I have a better example!

I was a very active little girl, even before I started attending school. I played kickball, dodgeball, football, and baseball in our neighborhood. I swam and went to summer camp. I jumped single rope and double Dutch, and my hips twirled that hula hoop. I walked everywhere.

I never had a tricycle, and learning to ride without training wheels took me forever. I danced and danced and danced – ballet, toe, tap, modern jazz. Leaping and pirouetting. I tried basketball, and I was awful.

I ran track in junior high school but didn’t like running all across the city for road work. I tried again in college because I wanted the uniform and name-brand running shoes they gave me. But they wanted me to run the 400 or 800-meter relays, and I wanted to run the 50 or 100-yard dashes. They said my legs looked like a distance runner’s legs.  They said I would get a second wind if I just kept going. I said my legs are dancers’ legs, and I never get that second breath.

Then there was cheerleading. In high school, I tried, but they didn’t choose me. I went ahead and tried again in college, and I made the squad. So, to all the other activities I enjoyed, I added splits in the air and jump splits that went from the air down to the floor in one fell swoop. A red and white skirt and sweater with matching Oxford shoes was our cheering outfit. The skirt was short, so we had little red briefs under it to protect our modesty. The skirt swayed as we walked. And it was something to behold when we stomped left, hit the right heel in the back, stomped left and stomped right, and repeated the sequence with the right foot stomping first. Our voices rang out in unison as we stomped and chanted through many cheers.

One time in college, we rode our bikes 15 miles one way, had a picnic, played volleyball and other running-around games, and then biked back those 15 miles. Man, I was sore the next day. As we peddled our day away in sheer happiness, feeling the wind in our faces was amazing.

Cheerleader red and white; ballet pink and white, black tap shoes, white and pink tights; blue bike; Nike tennis shoes in every color and stripe; African dance costumes; white or brown roller skates. Different costumes for different activities. 

Skinned knees, busted lips, bruised skin, broken toe, stitches on my lip under my nose, achieved during a racquetball game, twisted ankles on a miscued toe-dance. Nothing could stop the activity for long. Only a doctor told me to stop riding my bike, because I felt pain in my stomach after riding too far on my bicycle.  I knew I had to listen only because I was told I was pregnant.

My point for writing about this is that, in addition to all the time, all the activities, I also enjoyed the activity of eating. Butter Brickle ice cream is scrumptious on a walk from the bottom of Branch Avenue at Pennsylvania Avenue to the top of Branch and Alabama in Southeast Washington, D.C. It would be so hot on that walk, and I would be about finished with that pint of ice cream by the time I reached the top. You could get a pint of ice cream for less than $100. What a treat, and I didn’t gain a pound. I loved eating an entire 8-slice pizza (once I acquired a taste for pizza).  I could down two hot dogs, a plate full of pork and beans, French fries, and a huge cup of Kool-Aid. Let’s see, a honey bun with barbecue Fritos and a Pepsi was a delicious snack on the bus ride home from high school. A huge plate of nothing but candied sweet potatoes. Milk and Sugar Crisps cereal. An apple pie. Recess cups any time, any day, any amount!

Now I could eat like that because I never sat still. I was always on the move. I did not equate the ability to binge continuously with the ability to be active.

So, I kept my weight down and didn’t worry about it. Well, life changed, and the next thing I knew, I was raising children, living life.  I did not have much time for exercise or balancing eating with the level of exercise. And I looked up, and that proverbial nature took its course. Body parts expanded, and stuff just fell.

I still love to eat, but I now have to take more time to exercise. Yes, perhaps some of the more arduous moves I can only visualize in my mind because I can no longer jump as high or scissor split or complete four pirouettes or run too many lengths of that racquetball court.

But I see the moves, and I can instruct younger bodies in the mechanics of the moves. I still love it all. Yes, I have to cut back on my favorite foods. And because my body has become accustomed to extensive exercise and activity, I now have to work out almost as if I were in my twenties to keep things from getting too out of control.

Okay, that said, here is the real deal. The most important thing to admit is that if I knew then what I know now, I would have been insufferable.

Imagine my friends being invited over to my place for fun, only to discover that they will be served broccoli pops because ice cream will make you gain weight. Or, they thought they were going to play Barbie dolls, and I began to tell them about the anatomy of the girl doll as it relates to the relativity of the way the world spins around the sun. Or if they shared a story, and all I could add is that’s a dangling participle, and perhaps we should hold our stomachs in while we share. I would have been so much fun to be around – wouldn’t I?

If I had known then what I know now, what would I have done differently? Not a thing.