Do you ever have those days where it seems like an enormous effort to do what you know you should do?
Yesterday was like that for me. Not with eating; I did OK yesterday with eating. But exercise - oh man! I did
not want to work out.
I start work early enough that I can leave work relatively early if I get everything done. I can make it to 4:45 PM aerobics classes if the job is done and I manage to run out the door as soon as my work day ends. They're great classes, too - most days they're both cardio and strength training with free weights and dumbbells. I enjoy those classes.
But getting everything done here at the office has been hard lately. It's busy, my things-to-do list is out of control, and it doesn't help that I'm spending so durned much time here in bloggerland. As a result, getting to those classes hasn't been possible lately.
That doesn't mean I can't work out, though. There's always the option of going for a walk/run, and I have a stationary bike and dumbbells and a balance ball and a medicine ball here at home. They're in my living room. Classy, eh? We move it all to the garage before company comes over, I promise. Anyway, you'd think with it
right there in the living room staring at me I'd be able to fairly easily talk myself into getting on the bike.
Nope.
Yesterday I knew I should work out, but I did not want to do it. No sir, didn't wanna. This wouldn't have been such a problem except that I'd felt that way on Wednesday, too, so I skipped my workout Wednesday. I was due for a workout. Even so, I futzed around procrastinating for a couple hours, and eventually I started to get anxious, because there was this crazy battle going on in my head. I knew I should work out, I knew I'd regret not working out, I knew once I worked out I'd feel good about it, but no.
I. Did. Not. Want. To. Exercise.
What is
up with that?
How is it that I can want something and not want it all at the same time? Because I
do want the results. I
do want to be healthy and slender and fit.
I finally got so mad at myself that I went and tried on my non-fitting too-small jeans. Then I went online and bought two sleeveless tops that I knew I needed great arms to wear.* Then I took off all my clothes and looked at my thighs in the mirror and finally ...
FINALLY ... I got on my exercise bike and did 30 minutes of cardio. Ideally I would have liked to do more, but it was late by the time I finally did it. Plus, the motivation just wasn't there. Something is better than nothing.
This morning, part of me feels like I should look back on that whole thing as a victory. I finally did it, right? But the whole process was so unpleasant that I don't see it that way.
And the unpleasantness? That was all
ME causing it! I did it to myself! How messed up is that? I'm having a hard time considering it a victory. I just feel beat down.
I think ... I hope ... that once I get back into the pattern of working out, this will get easier. Last year I started working out in early October, and I
think it got easier from late October to early December. (I wish I had a blog back then to look back on to see if I'm right.) I hope I'm right. I hope that once I get the momentum going again this becomes easier.
This mental battle sucks, quite frankly. It is exhausting. I am weary.
On a brighter note, the scale is down today. Maybe when I'm not so tired I'll get more excited about that.
And on another bright note, it is Friday. Hooray for Friday.
I'm going to talk myself into getting motivated about exercise even if it kills me ... I've got to get that momentum going.
* These were total bargains. I love after-holiday sales, and it is killing me that I'm not taking advantage of the clearance clothes because my arse is bigger than it will be after I lose weight.
