reset

 i haven't worked out in 3 weeks.  the first week i was in san francisco for work.  the second week i had an identity crisis and started to question my entire fitness journey.  for most of my adult life i've yoga'd and worked out chasing the healthy lifestyle, touting health and wellness were my goals.  sometime last week something in the back of my brain crawled out of the deep dark tar pits of my soul and whispered,  "it's a lie.  all of it.  you aren't chasing wellness.  you just substituted healthy for skinny to make it socially acceptable to workout 2x in one day"   this is the stuff nightmares are made out of.  at least for me.  the brain does interesting things to keep you unaware of some of the truths you wish to remain buried.  i didn't feel good.  my last workout before going to san francisco was a 90 minute circuit class.  most people i know think 90 minutes of any sort of HIIT is insane but it was a class i liked going to because it made me feel badass.  it's not like i kicked all 90 minutes in the ass.  many of those minutes i spent lying on my back out of breath cursing whatever round of torture i needed to get myself off the floor to do.  core work makes me angry.  burpees make me angry. any sort of cardio makes me angry.  I kept staring at the door.    "I can walk out whenever I want to. I'm an adult and no one is going to stop me if I leave."   this is voluntary.  i have a choice.  i tend to forget this.  i picked my lumbering slow body off the ground and did whatever i was told to do next until the end of class.  on my way out i stopped to talk to the teacher who is probably one of the sweetest human beings on the planet.  jared asked me how it went and i was honest.  "it was horrible.  i was dragging ass the entire time.  i almost left"  i said.  "but don't get me wrong, it's not you, it was totally all me.  i just couldn't get into it this morning."  "everyone has days like this.  somedays it's just not meant to be. and seriously, 90 minutes is a long time to be doing something you're hating.  you can always leave, sometimes that's the best think you can do for yourself. "  i gave him a sweaty hug and called a lyft home.  the bus that takes me the closest to home doesn't run on weekends and after 90 minutes i wasn't going to double bus it.  the last thing i wanted was a 20 minute commute with the worst sweaty pants swamp butt.  moisture wicking  my ass.   that was the last time i set foot in a gym and that was 20 days ago.   5 of those days i had the death flu so i don't feel that bad for missing out this week but a part of me can't stop thinking...   what if i never go back?

i haven't worked out in 3 weeks.

the first week i was in san francisco for work.

the second week i had an identity crisis and started to question my entire fitness journey.  for most of my adult life i've yoga'd and worked out chasing the healthy lifestyle, touting health and wellness were my goals.  sometime last week something in the back of my brain crawled out of the deep dark tar pits of my soul and whispered, "it's a lie.  all of it.  you aren't chasing wellness.  you just substituted healthy for skinny to make it socially acceptable to workout 2x in one day"

this is the stuff nightmares are made out of.  at least for me.

the brain does interesting things to keep you unaware of some of the truths you wish to remain buried.

i didn't feel good.  my last workout before going to san francisco was a 90 minute circuit class.  most people i know think 90 minutes of any sort of HIIT is insane but it was a class i liked going to because it made me feel badass.  it's not like i kicked all 90 minutes in the ass.  many of those minutes i spent lying on my back out of breath cursing whatever round of torture i needed to get myself off the floor to do.  core work makes me angry.  burpees make me angry. any sort of cardio makes me angry.  I kept staring at the door.

 "I can walk out whenever I want to. I'm an adult and no one is going to stop me if I leave."

this is voluntary.  i have a choice.

i tend to forget this.  i picked my lumbering slow body off the ground and did whatever i was told to do next until the end of class.  on my way out i stopped to talk to the teacher who is probably one of the sweetest human beings on the planet.  jared asked me how it went and i was honest.

"it was horrible.  i was dragging ass the entire time.  i almost left"  i said.  "but don't get me wrong, it's not you, it was totally all me.  i just couldn't get into it this morning."

"everyone has days like this.  somedays it's just not meant to be. and seriously, 90 minutes is a long time to be doing something you're hating.  you can always leave, sometimes that's the best think you can do for yourself. "

i gave him a sweaty hug and called a lyft home.  the bus that takes me the closest to home doesn't run on weekends and after 90 minutes i wasn't going to double bus it.  the last thing i wanted was a 20 minute commute with the worst sweaty pants swamp butt.

moisture wicking my ass.

that was the last time i set foot in a gym and that was 20 days ago. 

5 of those days i had the death flu so i don't feel that bad for missing out this week but a part of me can't stop thinking...

what if i never go back?