I’m not sure what happened over the last few days. I hit some sort of wall, I guess.
See, I used to be a pretty lazy kid. I wasn’t clean, I didn’t really cook, but I lived for my computer, my video games, books and sleeping.
Then, somewhere during the last few years of college, a switch flipped and I suddenly became “Type A.” Case in point: I am now a morning person. For 23 years prior, this was not the case. Even worse, I get excited about being a morning person. Why? ” Because there is so much more of the day!”
WTF? I reckon 16 year-old Lex_D would kick my ass if she heard me say that.
Additionally, I do a lot around the house. This is not a knock on BF, but I generally clean, organize and do things like take out the trash (the trash is “not his thing.” And I quote). I’ve been hitting the gym religiously for the last 5 months, give or take. I do a lot of stuff after work, ie happy hours, book club. And, since BF often has a day off during the week, whenever I’m home — he’s home.
In short, I have not taken a lot of time for myself. I get guilt if I play video games, read, whatever, for more than 2 hours at a time. “What could I be doing?” my mind asks. Well, there’s laundry that could be done, clothes to put away in the bedroom, the counters need to be wiped down, the boxes outside need to be broken down and hauled to the dumpster, the plants need watering …
I think I hit a wall on Friday. Sure, 99% of the time I go to the gym by myself, but sometimes it’s not by choice. I go because I hate the guilt of not going. So on Friday, I gave everything the middle finger. The only thing I did because I HAD to this weekend was go to the apartment we’re moving into in a few weeks to get some details hammered out. I did not go to the gym and I drank beer instead. I opened the door when guilt rang, and then chased it down the block, swearing to kick its ass if it returned before Monday.
The rest of the time?
I played a lot of video games. I watched a lot of Millionaire Matchmaker (God bless Bravo for having a marathon all weekend). I napped shamelessly. I made a pan of incredible lasagne. I scrubbed the house clean … because I wanted to.
This is all well and good, but I’m at the point where I need to get back into gear. While being lazy and doing what I wanted to was great, I didn’t “want” to go to the gym this weekend, and that feeling is now bleeding over into the week. I drove straight by the gym today, and out of guilt did 3 sets of a leg circuit here at home (15 weighted squats, 20 weighted lunge/lifts, 15 weighted plie squats, 30-second wall sit … how I loathe thee, and 15 weighted ballerina squats). I worked up a hell of a sweat, but the guilt is still there.
I started to go to the gym because I wanted it to be a lifestyle change. I knew that there would be times that I really didn’t want to go, and that’s just the way things are. I told myself I’d accept those times, swallow the guilt, and pick it back up after a day off.
But four days off? I can’t tell if I’m being lazy, or if I need to find another workout.
image from praziquantel