What a week off. I know many of you have gone much longer due to injury or life circumstances, but geez-oh-man, six days of no exercise had me drained and all out of sorts. OK, so maybe I was drained on Sunday because of my one-night-stand with an amazing shiraz* on Saturday night, but the rest of the time it was definitely the lack of exercise.
(*Shiraz as in red wine and not a guy named Shiraz. Just wanted to be clear.)
A wrist issue grounded me from strength training Wednesday and Thursday, and the only excuse I had for not getting on the elliptical or going for a walk was that I was ticked about my wrist. Then Friday rolled around and I was out of the house at 7 a.m. to drive 10 hours to Chicago. Again, I know many of you would’ve gotten up at 3 or 4 and worked out before leaving. I aspire to be like that one day, but I doubt that will happen. I’ll just admire you and feel a little guilty for not trying harder to be you.
I had every intention Sunday night to work out on Monday, but it was Bruce’s death anniversary and I felt negative vibes all the way to my core. I stared at my computer screen for a few hours, went to my chiropractic appointment, threw a really boring salad together and called it a day.
Then (hallelujah!) came Tuesday. I woke up feeling like I’d been run over by a truck, but I knew it was because I hadn’t worked out in six days. The child in me tried to convince the mom in me to take another day off, but thank goodness my inner mom wasn’t having any of that. She snapped her fingers and gave that whiny brat a “look.” I got on the elliptical and somewhere around minute 13 – as always, like the certainty of daybreak – the endorphins kicked in and I felt like myself again.
It’s one thing to be physically unable to work out and quite another to be consciously refusing to work out. I remember three years ago when I had the cold from hell. I lost my voice, had zero energy and couldn’t work out for two weeks. I remember crying a little because I was so frustrated that I couldn’t go to the rec center. I’d have done anything to have my energy back so I could work out. Apparently I’d forgotten what that felt like last week because I was physically capable of exercising a few days, but I didn’t.
For most of my life, no matter what I weighed, I had a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me I should lose weight and I should exercise. Obviously this self-guilting got me nowhere, otherwise I’d have been maintaining a healthy weight for years! Changing “should” to “want” has made all the difference. I want to keep my weight off and I want to exercise. It just takes some reminding by my inner mom sometimes.
Ruthann said it best when she posted over on Lynn’s Weigh on Facebook that “Exercise is part of my identity.” I may not always like to exercise, but there are many things about my life I don’t always like, but I remain committed to them because in the long run they are what sustain me and keep me balanced and emotionally healthy.
Time to hop on the bike and lift a few weights. But before I go, here’s a song that picks me up when I feeling out of sorts. It’s called “Till I Am Myself Again” by Blue Rodeo. The opening line is “I want to know where my confidence went; one day it all disappeared.” ‘Nuf said.