Monday, June 21, 2010
I have a new confession.
I haven't been to the gym in a while. I've missed yoga. I've been unable to go to boxing. I was even too sick to make it to my personal training session last week.
There have been sick days, yes, but also busy days, stressful days, and previous-commitment days. Every kind of day. Every kind of excuse.
I wonder if I still could of gotten some kind of workout in? I probably could not have made it into the gym, but I could have a least done some kind of workout at home. I didn't have to go on a gym-free binge, that's for sure. (Thank goodness, at least, for the no-eatting-out rule. Because, if it weren't for that, I probably would have gained some ridiculous number.)
And where am I now?
Still the same weight I was two weeks ago. Probably not as strong, having less endurance. And most of all - I'm afraid. Afraid to go back.
Tomorrow I see my personal trainer, and I think I might literally go in cowering. I know he won't give me too much sympathy. And why should he? I've fallen down on the job.
Working out is my job. Eating well is my job. Being a heathy role model for my kids is my job. It is my responsibility, my duty, to do these things. No one else's. I can't blame anyone else when the job doesn't get done. And although I am the one that pays the majority of the consequences, it affects others as well. I'm more cranky to my husband, have less energy for my kids.
Tomorrow, I go back to work. I clock in, and pay the price for skimping out on my job. It will probably suck. And there will definitely be a lot of sweat - maybe some mild cursing.
But I'll be there, getting the job done.