The first week of January this year, I started a diet and exercise plan to knock off some nagging weight that I’ve gained in the last four years or so. It was not a New Years resolution. It was not a whim. It was something that my brain had finally realized was necessary.
I was kick started by a poster hanging in the locker room at the gym that I went to about once a week to pretend to exercise. It talked about how exercise or diet alone won’t be as effective, and how training could increase the likelihood of success. It was probably some brainwashing to get me to spend money, but it was successful. I decided at that moment, as the sign hung on the mirror, refusing to move out of view as I washed my hands, that it was time to do something and mean it.
I marched my fat butt up to the front desk and asked to talk to someone about the program. I learned that they guaranteed 10 pounds of fat loss or 10 pounds of muscle gain, which ever you preferred to aim for. That description – separating fat loss and muscle gain – had me believing that this program was for real. I signed up to meet with Donna as soon as she was next available.
Through the next several months, I worked on learning how to eat less but more often, how to lift, how to keep my heart rate up, all sorts of interesting things. And I took everything seriously. (Well, except for the vitamins. I’ve never been good at remembering to take vitamins – just ask my Dad. He’s tried to feed them to me my entire life with little success.)
Story time over. Fast forward > >> >>>
I’m currently down 31 pounds, with 27 remaining to lose. My current exercise routine is supposed to have me doing full-body resistance training on Mondays, running or doing other cardio on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, meeting with my trainer for more resistance training on Thursdays, and doing something (usually more running) on Saturdays. It’s really not that much of a time commitment – never more than an hour a day. But for some reason I have been having the most impossible time getting myself to run.
I used to run at the gym directly after work on those weekdays, until I discovered “the outside.” I actually love running outside. It’s soothing and I can listen to my iPod playing Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robot. I had actually started to get pretty good. I was finally able to run a half-mile without dropping to a walk.
In the last two weeks, however, something in my brain has turned off. And I’ve failed to run for the past two weeks of Tuesdays and Wednesdays. This is not good. I’ve been so good at keeping up with the entire program for so long. I’ve gotten so many complements from my trainer for being so insistent that following this program is necessary to my future existence.
But now, I feel like a failure. That’s so funny to say. I still do the other three days of training just as I’m supposed to. But I can’t seem to get my butt out the door to run on weekday nights. What the hell is up with that, anyway? I think I’m going to, all the way up to maybe 3PM, but by the time I leave work, I’m just like, “Eh… get me home now.”
I can’t seem to get the jump from cerebrally knowing that I should go to actually going. It’s so bizarre. I don’t even think the jump used to be there at all before. I just did it before. I didn’t think about why, how, or how long it was going to take. I just ran/cycled/jogged/elipticalled. (Elipticalled isn’t a word is it…)
There’s a song that plays on my radio in the morning rather often. It doesn’t really apply, but some of the text does, “I’m giving up giving up.” I have to stop stopping, and just go.
Today is Thursday, so I have my appointment with Donna. I never miss that, nor would I even dream of it. I’ll be there early, I’ll stretch a little, and Donna will teach me new and interesting ways to beat myself up. I’ll leave feeling absolutely awesome (if a bit sore), and head home for a shower. I’ll be happy. If I could just remember how good it feels when exercising, I could just do it.
Or maybe I have to stop thinking about it. The gap between thinking and doing has got to go.
Bonus points to anyone who can identify the origin of the title of this entry without resorting to Google.