Getting In My Own Way

Do you ever get in your own way?  For those of you who know me, you might assume I’m talking about how klutzy I am.  Not this time, although, that has gone on a lot in my life.  This time I’m talking about mentally and emotionally.  Monday, I spent the entire day feeling weepy, feeling like if I started crying I might never stop.  Tuesday, I was crabby.  No, not your run of the mill cranky.  I was angry about stupid, unimportant stuff.  Wednesday I felt out of sorts, like something was wrong in the world, but I couldn’t put my finger on it, I was just grateful I was no longer über crabby.   Yesterday, I went to the gym for the first time in over 2 weeks.  (I’m wondering how much the lack of exercise was contributing to the wacked out emotions.)  I haven’t gone, because I wanted to spend time with the girls, also with all the new people in the neighborhood  I wasn’t comfortable leaving them here alone (yes, I know they are 10 & 12).  Rick has also been getting home so late in the evening, that if I were to run to the gym after he gets home, I’d not be home at bedtime….either the girls or ours.  I make it a point to go to bed when my hubby does, since I get up with him in the a.m. to make sure he’s got a lunch, and it’s hard to sleep through a noisy guy getting ready for work.  Well, I made it to the gym yesterday at about noon.  I would have been there earlier, but I had to stop in for my  two-week blood pressure check (down this week, I don’t know what the heck is going on) and then talked to my bestest girlfriend on the phone, while sitting in the car, plucking my eyebrows.  (Yes, Jennifer Hutt was right about the lighting in the car.  You know Jennifer…from Whatever with Alexis and Jennifer.  You don’t?  Oh, the pity.  Alexis is Martha Stewart’s daughter, and they had a show on the Hallmark channel, where they talked, crafted, and…oh, yeah, made fun of Martha.  Okay, back to the subject.)  Yes, I plucked in “public.”  So what.  Anyhow…got to the gym, got on my treadmill, popped in my ear buds, turned on my MP3 player, only to find out that I needed to “update” all my songs from Rhapsody.  NO TUNES!  The horror.  It was just enough to make me nutty.  I managed to do 20 minutes on the treadmill, then had to pee….I called it quits after 20 FREAKING minutes.  The end of July I was logging 1 hour of cardio, on the treadmill or bike and up to an hour of strength training.  What the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks?  I got in my own way.  I let my week psych me out.  What is up with that?  What should I have done?  Pounded it out on that damn treadmill, even if it left me a limp, weeping, gagging mess.  You know why?  Because I would have felt like a million bucks by the end of the day.  Okay, maybe a hundred thousand…but you catch my drift.  Yes, I may have felt like garbage until after I’d snarfed up a healthy lunch (which I managed any how) and dragged my jello-legged self into the shower, but my brain chemicals would have been starting a party with of endorphins and serotonin re-uptake stuff…the likes of which would resemble a weekend long, booze filled, frat party.  I’d have been flying.  The closest I have ever come to knowing what snorting coke feels like is that 2 hours post workout buzz.  The mild ache in my muscles that lets me know I’m still alive, that I can FEEL.  It helps me not use some of the other crazy-making things that I do and have done to remind myself I can FEEL.  Anyone else out there know what that’s like?  Once you realize that’s your motivation behind certain things, it sucks, and can take the joy out of things that are supposed to be spectacular and special.  It can also change the way you go about your everyday life, and how you interact with people.  Even how you move or dress.

So today, as soon as my dad-gum MP3 player finishes updating, I’m off to the gym.  And I’m going to stay on that treadmill or bike until I’ve put in 45 minutes, at least…and then I’m going to do my strength training.  Why?  Because I will feel better, and it might help me get what I want for Christmas.  Yes, I said Christmas.  It hit me this morning.  What I want for Christmas this year is a pretty gold chain…so I can wear my wedding rings around my neck until I can get them resized.  As of right now, I can wear them, and I have absolutely zero fear of them falling the heck off.  I want to have to worry about that.  Will I be disappointed if that doesn’t happen.  Not really.  I’ve worn the same size ring since I got married, and I weighed, oh, I don’t know….65-70 lbs less.  (Yikes, that sucked having to type that.)  I’m so not telling you what the scale says I weigh now.  That is just NOT going to happen.  I still have a little shame left.  But apparently, only about my weight.

To my bestest buddy who pinned me down about this blog yesterday on the phone…I told you I was working on something.  😉  Thanks for kicking me in the pants and putting my feet to the fire.  I needed this.  I also want to thank the coolest blogger chick I read for reminding me that life goes on, there are little miracles everyday, and that no matter what, it could always be worse, or YOU can change it for the better, and for inspiring me.  Thank you Stephanie.  You can check her out here .  Maybe she can inspire you, too.  Oh, and congrats on Nielson baby #5.

Tomorrow, look for a What’s For Dinner post, about last nights cobbled together dinner.

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