Kind of like the blahs only less lackadaisical and somewhat more accepting.
Last week, my gym closed. Abruptly. Unexpectedly. Closed.
I can see my favorite elliptical machine through the glass front of the gym but I cannot reach it.
Know what I have learned as a result of this?
I NEED EXERCISE IN MY LIFE.
I stepped on the scale this morning and the number read 199.5. ONE NINETY NINE POINT FIVE OH MAH GAH.
(This could not possibly be related to the fact that 1) Lady Week is approaching or 2) I had buffalo chicken dip and Wheat Thins (which, despite the name aren’t really thin-people food) for dinner last night or 3) I’ve had a bottle of wine this week. I mean, no way, right??)
::sigh::
I know the above is just a list of excuses I tell myself to try and rationalize why I didn’t do well last week. I use the same excuses whenever I don’t do well. (Though there is some truth to that Lady Week thing…)
I also know that the lack of exercise contributed to my rotten mood. There was no way to work out my frustrations to the sounds of heavy metal on my iPod courtesy of the playlist Dan created for me. There was no rush of endorphins to carry me through the evening and night so that I could wake up in a better mood the next day. There was no sense of personal triumph when I did 5 more minutes of cardio or 3 more reps than I’d previously done.
There was just me. In a funk. Being hurt and hurting and being sad and making sad. With “no friendly drop [of anything except wine] to help me after.”
(Bonus points to the first person who can tell me where that quote’s from WITHOUT GOOGLING. Honor system, people.)
So I ate and drank my feelings this week. But I’m not going to beat myself up about it because that would get me absolutely nowhere.
What am I going to do to fix this, you ask?
Join another gym. Bottom line. I have to do this.There just is no other way.
And I never thought I’d say that I needed to go to the gym and mean it in the same way a…uh…
I can’t think of any reasonable comparison to make that wouldn’t offend either a) fat kids or b) addicts of any sort.
So there’s that. 3 pounds up in a week as a result of laziness and over eating of all things junky and not good for me. I Tumbled most of the bad ideas I had this week and now I’m paying the price. But not for long.
Today is a new day. One I’m “beginning well, and serenely, and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with my old nonsense.”
(I am apparently all literary this morning, which is appropriate considering it’s my job. More bonus points to the person who tells me where that came from, too. Google is for cheaters.)