Technically, I’m one day behind on my workouts. I thought about remedying this by pushing through a second workout in a row yesterday so that I could proudly report my success on this blog…but then I took a nap, instead. And it a glorious nap it was.
I’m going out of town this weekend, so I’ll need to take my “rest” day on Saturday and can’t play catch up then, but the weekend after I’ll totally be all caught up. At this point it’s more about shutting up that voice in my head that tells me that I just don’t feel like it today, and wouldn’t it be nice to just not workout than it is about getting really in shape. That voice is such a lying minx. It’s the same one that tells me that I really need that extra half hour of sleep, and that I’ll totally get to my creative writing projects after work. There’s plenty of time in the evenings, after all. And it won’t like I’ll be completely drained from the day job or anything.
The results I’ve seen from the program so far aren’t what I expected, exactly. I’m not losing a ton of weight. In fact, I’ve gained a pound or two. But I can tell that it isn’t a pound or two of fat; it’s muscle—something I have never gone out of my way to develop before, and it’s both foreign and fantastic. Suddenly, I feel like I have a modicum of control over my own shape. That probably sounds silly, but when you spend most of your teenage life with a metabolism that won’t quit (I know, I’m not getting any sympathy points here, but, truth!) and then suddenly in your midtwenties that’s gone and it seems like every pound added is a gift from some bitch of a pound-fairy that sneaks in through your bedroom window each night to force feed you pizza and beer, it may come as a surprise that you actually can do something to make a change. It’s a bit surprising to me, anyway.
So, aside from a week-long haitus I’ll have to take while I go on vacation with my mom (pictures and stories to come!), I’m sticking with it until the bitter end…stay tuned to hear how I totally catch up on the day I’m behind :)