Muscle Matters: Why Having Strong Muscles Might Just Save Your Life

Body Shop Guy: "This is your car?"
Me: "Well, it... was."
Body Shop Guy: "And you were driving it?"
Me: "I was."
Body Shop Guy: "You're one lucky girl.  I wouldn't have expected you to be walking around like you are.  That was a bad accident.  But you look like you're o.k...?"

I was getting my things out of my car two days after the accident-- suspecting, accurately as it turns out, that my car would be totaled. I'd been T-boned on the driver's side of the car and spun out across a busy road.  My back tire was caved in about 20 degrees, the airbags had deployed, and the frame of the car had shifted enough that 2 doors were not able to function properly. As far as wrecks go, it wasn't that bad comparatively.  But it wasn't a fender bender either.

The body shop guy's comment creeped me out more than a little, especially since that was the first time I'd really looked at the interior of the car.  It was littered with bajillions of unidentifiable metal pieces, the leather had numerous rips, and my plastic tupperware boxes in the trunk were destroyed.

I, however, am fine.  I had some seatbelt burn, and a sore shoulder from the impact of the airbag.  Nothing some ice and advil couldn't help.

Trust me, there have been more than a few prayers of gratitude that have gone up.   I do feel lucky, and the thought of how much worse it could have been still makes me a little queasy. I'm glad I was in a car that was well designed for side impact.  Silly though it sounds, I'm also grateful to my body.

I frequently tell people that being strong matters.  Which is usually when women put up their hands and say "I don't want to be one of those body builder women." I resist the urge to roll my eyes and give my schpiel about women not having enough testosterone to do that...nevermind that I was talking about strength not muscle size.  I guess I'm really talking about functional strength, which is being strong enough to do what you need to do.  It's being able to carry a heavy purse without your shoulder coming out of socket.  It's being able to hold a cast iron skillet, or to get the thing off the shelf without having to call your husband.

It's also being strong enough to withstand an impact if you ever need to.

A big part of a  muscle's job is to keep a joint in place. My trainer uses the analogy of a corn dog.  (But he calls it a "Corny" dog.  I've tried to explain to him that he sounds silly.  He says that's what people say in Texas.) Imagine that the corn meal covering represents your skin, the hot dog itself represents your muscles, and the stick represents your joints. Now imagine that you could somehow take bits out of the hotdog, leaving the covering and the stick.  Of course, that'd be a mess--and the stick would be anything but stable.

If you don't take care of your muscles, they won't be prepared to do what you ask of them.   It means feeding them properly, with enough protein and variety of amino acids so that the body can do it's work of repairing wear and tear on body parts.  (If you aren't getting enough, your body will actually eat it's own muscle to get the amino acids it needs.  No joke.  More on that later!)  Taking care of your muscles also means using them.  "Use it or lose it" is about the truest statement there is when it comes to muscles.  Sitting around on an ever expanding butt is not only causing weight gain and a host of other problems, it's destroying the quality of your muscles.

I'm not exaggerating when I say having strong muscles can save your life.  (Literally, man!) My trainer tells a story of being young and dumb, and being thrown from a motorcycle into a tree at 40 mph.  The doctor looked at him and said "The ONLY reason you are alive is because you have so much muscle."  But I saw it happen with my parents too, when they rolled their car three times across a busy interestate. Dad got an earful of dirt because the caved in sunroof acted like a shovel.  Mom had a cut on her toe that required seven stitches.  And that was it.  Were all these people lucky? Absolutely.  (And divinely protected?  Oh yeah.) But it was also that their muscles were ready to do their job.

Think it doesn't matter?  Go watch the "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up" commercial.   That doesn't just happen to octogenarians.  It happens to people who don't take care of their bodies.

Sit. Stay.

My "fall" table

You wouldn't believe how often I hear it: "I don't have time to eat." Which is even more silly than "I don't have time to cook." (Post on that coming, later!)  Really? You don't have time to eat? Do you have time to brush your teeth?  Shower? I mean, I feel like these things are pretty basic life skills.

I was a fat girl.  Nobody who was as big as I was says "I don't have time to eat." But I told myself for years that I didn't have time to eat well. 

I was already well into this healthy life when I became a single girl after 6 years of marriage.  The idea of coming home and cooking for myself seemed like a lot of trouble.  The idea of sitting down to a meal by myself was even worse.  Trust me, I know why people eat out or eat their meals in front of the television.  It's just somehow easier.

But now I'm in a different place, and I realize I wasn't doing myself any favors. Of course, you've probably heard by now that Eating in Front of the TV Can Make You Fat-- nutso, I know. Turns out that when your brain is distracted, it can't process the feeling of the satisfaction.  Translation: come 9 o'clock, it's open season on your refrigerator. Your body didn't realize it ate a great meal just a short time before.   Couple that with all the advertisements for uhem... $*%#food, and you're fighting a losing battle.

Besides, most of us are so stressed out that we're already primed to eat things we don't need, because that's what elevated cortisol (your stress hormone) does.  But the simple act of having an evening ritual that helps you unwind can help negate the effects of a stressful day.  A chance to sit and reflect and "let it go" to quote the chirpy Disney princess, is a chance to not take the day to bed with you.  Which means you sleep more.  Which in turn helps you reduce cortisol.  Which helps keep your weight in check. See where I'm going with this?

Maybe, though, it's more than all that.  Maybe the simple act of sitting down to a meal reminds you what you're doing, and what it is that you want from all of this. Maybe the act of eating off a nice dinner plate reminds you that you're worth it.

These days, I look forward to meals, but not really because of the food. When I can, I come home to eat-- and eat off a pretty table that I keep set.  When I can't get home, I do the best I can to at least go eat in a park.  I day dream, or just sit in the silence.  Occasionally, I put on some Norah Jones or Ella Fitzgerald.  In the evenings, I light a candle and enjoy the glow.  I make a conscious effort to set down my day.

I know, I know... most of you don't have the luxury of singleness that allows you to sit and have a quiet dinner. Fair enough, but even if not, you can still make at least dinner an event.  Use good dishes, even if you have kids. Do as many of the dishes as you can before you eat, and try not to eat in a cluttered space.  Try not to talk "shop"-- who has to pick up which child, and how you're going to purchase the new water heater. Instead, use meal times to talk about things that excite you, or good things that happened in your day.  One of the best things you can do for your family is model a healthy lifestyle for them-- and slowing down and enjoying a meal is a huge part of that.

It seems like such a small thing, this sitting down for a meal.  It seems like something that couldn't really make much difference in anything really.  But try it for a week or a month. This one thing may start a chain reaction.  This one thing may be enough to change your mindset and shift it into a pattern of healthy living, which may be one of the things you need to finally start losing the weight, and getting healthy.