I’ve fallen off the wagon.
For a while this spring, I was running a few times a week and doing The Shred again. I felt pretty damn good about myself.
And then life fell apart for a while in late spring and lay in a crumpled heap until we started to pick up the pieces in late July. Unlike many, I do not exercise when stress levels get too high: I curl up into a ball and weep.
August was better emotionally but a whirlwind of travel and house guests, though I did manage to eek out a few runs and a bike ride. Those runs were exhilarating and amazing while up in the New Hampshire mountains.
I ran a 5k in September. Yes, ran the whole thing, albeit s-l-o-w-l-y. But that is the extent of any formal “exercise” I got.
Now it is October 1. My clothes are a bit tighter but not obscenely so. I feel like doing sit ups, but part of me thinks, “why?”
I have been a short-term exerciser for as long as I can remember. Sometimes “short term” lasts a year, sometimes it lasts a week. But it has never, ever been as routine as brushing my teeth.
I read Bill’s post “How Badly Do You Want It?” and came up short. Oh sure, I’d love to look like a marathon runner, or maybe even just a really fit version of myself. But how early am I willing to get up? Am I willing to give up my time working in the morning, or evening, for this? Do I try to fit in a half hour of exercise while the kids are reading or coloring or scattering Legos across my living room?
How badly do I want it?
How badly do you want it? Do you make the time for exercise? How?
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