Once upon a time I dropped out of college and moved back home, finding it strangely difficult to land a job even at a restaurant. So I did what any bored 19 year-old girl does living in a city of high rise condos, couture malls, and pretty people. I bought some workout videos. Then I turned working out into a career. Then I left that career.
Then, strangely enough, I got into the best shape of my life. A year after quitting personal training I was almost 20 pounds lighter and running faster and farther than I ever was as a fitness professional. Apparently, I’m good at motivating others but spending 10 hours a day in a gym made my workouts lackluster.
The hard part is that now that I’ve seen my successes, I get kind of down when I fall out of sync with my workouts. In the past three weeks I have worked out a total of one time. I ran less than a mile. It was hot out.
Today though, I decided I needed to get back to the gym. I threw on my always motivating pink running shoes and hit the treadmill running. Okay I didn’t really do that because I would’ve just ran into the treadmill control panel and looked ridiculous. But I did step onto it quickly and excitedly.
At 17 minutes and 5 seconds I really had to pee so I sort of lost momentum for a hot second there but I walked as fast as I could to and from the bathroom to keep the calories burning.
60 long treadmill minutes and half of the movie Contact (how much do you love treadmills with personal T.V.s?) later, I was looking sexy. My face was red as a tomato and covered in sweat. My clothes looked like I got caught in the rain. My hair was doing this fantabulous crazy, frizzy, go-every-direction-except-down thing. It’ s a good thing there weren’t many people in the gym to bask in my beauty. They might’ve been too overwhelmed to function.
But the point is that I made it through. I felt so awesome and so crappy at the same time. I was all up in that runner’s high and loving it. It always feels good to get back into the workout regimen. Always.
So suck it, treadmill.
“Happiness is a conscious choice, not an automatic response.” Mildred Barthel
I choose happiness. I also choose sleep. Oh and guess what – I’m posting this daily blog five minutes into the next day and I don’t care. You know why? Let me quote myself here. My blog. My rules.