It’s been a week and a half since I worked out. And significantly longer since I was eating “clean”. Lately its been lots of London pub food and pints, Indian food and wine. And all I can think about is how nervous I am about starting back. I mean, I’m really, really nervous. Which seems odd to me. It hasn’t been THAT long that I’ve been out of my routine, and I’ve been doing Crossfit 3x a week since late November. I should know I can jump back in. And yet I’m totally freaked out about showing up again and inclined to bury my head.
But I won’t. I’m going to drag my butt out of bed at 5:30am 5 days in a row next week, get myself to the gym and push my body to do squats, pushups, pull-ups, and lift heavy weights. And I’m going to go shopping and get some vegetables (remember those?), some lean protein and nuts, and walk right past the beer and wine aisle without a glance. And a week from today, I’m going to feel way better than I do right now. Because right now I feel kind of like a bloated elephant.
Funny how once we’re in a habit, it’s easy to keep up with (a body in motion stays in motion….). But it’s also really, really easy to get off track. And for me starting up a habit I was sidetracked from can almost be harder than it was to start it the first time. Which is annoying. But off I go, nonetheless. Wondering why I torture myself, but knowing I’ll be happy I did.