I have a Crossfit class I go to Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 6:15am. I lay out my clothes the night before, set my alarm for 5:52, and for the most part I jump out of bed at the alarm and head out to my car, barely awake. Though I’m not a morning person, once I’m there I really like it. I like Crossfit and I LOVE the people I work out with. But this morning? With barely a thought I flipped off the alarm and snuggled back down under the covers. I wrestled with guilt for the next 10 minutes before I slid back into a fitful sleep. Why did I skip it? No idea. I just didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay in bed. I was tired.
You know, I want to be one of those women who is athletic and fit, who craves exercise and feels good only when I’m moving. I want to be that lean, strong woman in the Nike commercials, running easily and peacefully on an empty mountain trail. But in reality? I really only exercise because I feel like I have to. Because I like to eat, and because I feel guilty if I don’t exercise. Yes, I enjoy exercise when I’m doing it sometimes. I do like thinks like taking walks and going hiking, or leisurely swimming laps. But going to do something specifically as “exercise” just to stay in reasonable shape? The best part, honestly, is the sense of accomplishment when I’m done.
One reason for this lack of excitement over exercise, I’m guessing, is that no matter how much I’ve exercised (whether it’s Crossfit three times a week, or half-marathon training for 6 months, or swimming 3 miles a week – to name just a few kicks I’ve been on for months at a time) its never transformed my body into what I want it to look like. And since that has been my primary motivation – to look good and/or justify food intake – it’s kind of annoying when the smaller clothes continue to elude me despite the crazy amounts of pushups, squats, pull-ups and weight I move around the gym. Or the tons of miles I racked up a few years ago on my running kick. Yes, I know that diet has a ton to do with things, but even when I’ve had it all dialed in for months at a time, I still have seem limited results. At least compared to what I want to see. So this morning when that alarm clock went off, I couldn’t do it. I said PHTTTTTTTT, rolled over and went back to sleep. And I had a cinnamon scone for breakfast, just to rub it in.
I think I need some new motivation.
Health? Energy? Camaraderie? Yes. All those things are probably better sources of motivation than a size 8 pair of jeans, and I’m sure there are others. And I suppose somehow I need to make those the reason I jump out of bed at the crack of dawn.
So much easier said than done. Oh well. For the moment, I’m going to stop stressing about it and head out on vacation later this week – one that is very much needed. And I think a change of scenery and some head-clearing will do me good. Here’s to a good dose of rest, self-care, and quality time with people I love. Time for a recharge.