I feel like by doing this, I finally joined the ranks of Serious Gym Goers, but honestly, I'm not sure it will last, it's just--I knew it would be the way, the only way really, to actually fit in a good workout today. Part of me is in shock that I actually did it. I know a ton of you do this every day and for that? I applaud you. Like, LEGIT STANDING OVATION, because it is haaaard. Especially the whole leaving-in-pitch-dark and then coming-home-in-pitch-dark thing, too.
The upside? I'm all done now. I feel great. I came home to a creepy quiet house full of sleeping people, I even got a shower & dried my hair and GOT DRESSED all before 7am. And, oh yea--I'm sipping my coffee in peace sitting at my table like a BOSS.
|you either love the self timer app, or you hate it. I'm hating all the yellow/orangey hues of this crappy phone pic butttttt.....|
As I was on my drive home, you know, in pitch black, I started getting those post-workout-feelings. No, it wasn't some euphoric high, singing in the rain-kinda thing. In fact, it was the opposite. I started feeling sore. I started recalling what I'd just done in Body Combat (at 5 friggin' AM-no I can't let that go--that hour should be illegal!). And I thought--why the freak do I do this? I'm tiiired.My quads!my hamstrings!mycalves!myknees!myback!owww!
And I swear. I SWEAR. In that instant I felt like I was transported back in time. THAT IS THE REASON I ALWAYS QUIT WORKING OUT.
People have asked me if I've always loved working out/fitness/health-related-stuff--and the answer is a big, fat, HECK NO. I mean, I wish I could say that this has been an interest of mine my whole life and yadda-yadda, but it's not been, at all. Hence why I was out of shape, uncomfortable with myself, lived my college years being overweight and got married in a wedding dress size I wish I didn't.
The truth is, I never let myself finish what I had started.
You hear that?
I NEVER LET MYSELF.
I was the one who always stopped myself. I had the the motivation at times, yes. I'd begin to eat healthy for a day or two, I'd work out a little here or there. The second it got uncomfortable or took too much work, and I told myself this sucks & ow my body, forget this--- I JUMPED SHIP.
I never even gave myself the time to see change. The time to realize what getting in a real routine actually did for my health, for my mind, for my body. I never even gave myself enough time to realize that what you work for is so worth it. And no, I don't even mean achieving some 'goal' body, per se. But dang it, you have got to stick it out--and talking yourself out of it isn't going to do a darn thing to help you get anywhere.
This is what I wished I could have yelled at myself years ago. To shut-up the little thoughts that creep in to just quit and don't go back because it's too hard.
'Cuz I call BS on that.
I call BS on my old self-talk. I'm mad at myself for letting that win.
Now I know better. You stick it out. It's not living in a prison, or being bound, in fact--it's the opposite. It's completely freeing being happy with your whole self.
Even though my brain can easily slip back into those old thoughts---at least my heart knows better now.
Listen to your heart & just.keep.going.
have a happy weekend, loves.