I’m fairly proud of myself, so I’m going to write about this even though I know none of you really care, and are probably thinking, “Whoopdee-freaking-do, you worked out today? I do that every day. Big deal.” WELL IT IS A BIG DEAL FOR ME AND I WILL NOT LET YOU RUIN THIS.
Ahem. Where were we?
I’ve been working out pretty consistently (at least three times a week), and actually pretty hard (no, for real, I’ve actually been trying really hard), for the last few weeks. I was starting to feel pretty good about my newly implemented routine, until I got sick at the beginning of the week.
Now let me give you a little history. The last three times I’ve tried to get back into a workout routine I’ve either gotten sick a week or two in, or like the last time, when I got in a wreck and strained some muscles in my neck and shoulder. I consider events like this to bring about what I like to call the critical point. This is the point at which I’ve gone 3 or more days without working out, and I have to make the decision whether to “wait until tomorrow, when I’ll probably feel better” or start back up today, even though I’m still not quite 100%. Let me just tell you that the first option is always fatal to my workout routine, and I will inevitably quit working out until approximately 2 months later when my self-loathing builds back up to intolerable levels and I’m forced to take action yet again.
Today I reached the critical point, my friends. I sat on the couch thinking, “I still don’t really feel that great. My throat still hurts, and I still have a lot of congestion in my sinuses. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow to work out.”
But then I thought, “Maybe I wouldn’t get sick so damn often if my body was in better shape.”
And I got my ass off the couch and hit the gym for an hour. Hard. Now I’m back on the couch, proudly sweat-covered and writing about how for once, I wasn’t a lazyass.
