I exercised!

I exercised.

I have actually exercised every other day for the last two weeks.

And let me tell you something.

I’m sore. My legs hurt. My stomach hurts. My butt hurts. I’m just a bundle of hurt.

I’m notorious for not exercising. I have a whole slew of reasons excuses why I don’t exercise.

I’ll do it wrong. I’ll look ridiculous. It’ll hurt. I’ll hate it. I’ll get all sweaty.

And you know what? I was right. 100% right.

I’m pretty certain I did things wrong. I used the modifiers more than the actual moves. I forgot to breathe constantly. Judging by the shadows on the wall (and the horrified look on my 2 year old’s face) I did look absolutely ridiculous. I stopped so many times. What was supposed to be a 5-10 second rest between reps was actually a good 45 seconds of me trying to convince myself to do the next one.

It was quite quite literally a train wreck.

But I did it. I feel like I need a shirt that says “But did you die?”

I haven’t been consistent with exercise in YEARS. Sure, when I first started up again I would sporadically force myself to do some movement. A couple squats here, a few lunges there… 3 second planks. I know I’m not alone here.
Then I’d lose all motivation and stop doing it, stop talking about it…but I’d continue to pin the hell out of “beginners low impact cardio/core exercises.”

Doing this was the exact opposite of bingeing.

If you’re unfamiliar with that cycle… here it is.

Rationalize with yourself why it’s ok to go a little crazy. Go a little crazy (ahem…a lot crazy). Feel awesome while doing it. 20 minutes later have some very negative words for yourself.

Rinse repeat.

In this case it was

Convince yourself to do it. Procastronate while looking for the “perfect workout to do.” Force yourself to do it. Feel horrible while doing it. Curse everything and anything that is related to movement and muscles. 20 minutes later feel absolutely awesome…almost like a superhero.

Rinse repeat.

All in all, folks.

I still hate it. Regardless of how “superhero-y” it makes me feel. I still freaking hate it. I remember back in the past I used to do Pound, and C25k, and I had blast straps…and I would even do some sparring with Josh.

Those things I really enjoyed (except C25k… not a fan of running). Strange to say, but I did like them. I know at this point I just have to find things that I legitimately enjoy. Things I would look forward to doing on a regular basis, rather than finding reasons not to do it.

In all reality, I am not looking right now. I’m just trying to get my butt moving on the rare occasion I can break free with a solid half hour to get things done.

I can’t count dancing in the car or doing dishes as exercise forever. That’s kind of the cheater’s way out, right? Right? (This is the moment where I tell myself that any motion is good motion. And I get a clean house on top of it)

Overall, one day I might exercise and enjoy it. Today is not that day. Today is the day where I hit two solid weeks of regular exercising.

And I’ll take it.

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