Y’know how I’ve been posting a lot about working out since I started going to the gym back in March? I’ve been pretty good/diligent so far about going regularly. (Even if, by “regular”, I mean twice weekly – thrice if I’ve been good.) All this exercise has had a marked impact on not only my physical appearance (I’ve been regularly getting comments about how I lost weight – which is another post for another time) but also my health, in particular my digestion issues. Last month, I even signed up to work out with a personal trainer once a week. It’s been lovely and I’m so glad that I’ve made exercise a part of my life.
But a couple weeks ago, I got into a car accident and while everything is currently being sorted out through the insurance company, I’ve completely fallen off my gym routine. Aside from my once a week sessions with my personal trainer, I actually haven’t hit the gym at all. Yes, of course there’s lots of paperwork to sort out and lots of questions about what to do about the car and money and all those things to keep me from the gym.
In reality though, I know the real reason I haven’t been working out is that I’m sad. When I’m finally done work, I just want to crawl into bed and sleep and/or cry. The last thing I’ve wanted to do is hit the treadmill or bust my ass stair climber. It doesn’t logically add up because I know that if I’m feeling sad and stressed out, then working a good sweat will actually make me feel better both physically and mentally. But I just haven’t been able to bring myself to go and I’ve been racked with guilt about it.
Today marks two weeks of not working out regularly. And inside, I know that if I put this off s’more, I’ll never head back to the gym and my damn membership will go to waste. So this morning I finally dragged myself down to my condo’s gym. Fifteen minutes on the elliptical (ugh, I seriously hate that machine) and 45 minutes strength training, I feel infinitely better! Of course I would; I knew that I would. But damn, I never realized how much of a mental game it all is. Even just putting on the workout gear to go. I always knew that half the battle is just getting down to the gym, but now I’d say that’s the biggest battle of the whole thing. I can do a lot of stuff, even if it hurts and my body is crying for me to rest (damn you burpees!) and I enjoy the challenge. But I hate hate hate the five minutes just before getting to the gym.