It happens to the best of us.
No need to beat yourself up over it.
After a 6 month fitness hiatus, i'm back with a vengeance, and the truth is, i just wanna throw up. Every step on that treadmill, every squat i lower myself into, every second i hold in that plank- is a grave reminder that the Oreos i had at 3am was definitely NOT worth it.
Ok, so maybe it was. Maybe those 6 months of vegging out was something that was long overdue. I felt like i deserved it, to tell you the truth. I was living life, fresh from broken shackles. I wanted to be happy and come and go as i please. So, i did. And it was fabulous.
Now, i sit in bed, surrounded by stacks of clothing that barely fit. By "barely", i really mean- i can't even consider trying to put those on. I wake up tired and beaten. Always tired. I can barely walk to the grocery store without having to catch my breath. I can hardly lift a cooler filled with apples without having to complain about my back. My feet hurt. I feel like shit.
So, enough. The fun has been had, my body is complaining, and i've reached my limit. I'm on Day 3 of training and i'm already starting to feel better. Given, my arms feel like rubber, my legs feel like jello, and i just wanna collapse onto the floor... but better, nonetheless.
I'm writing this down to remind myself what starting from Day 1 feels like. I'm not a teenager anymore. I remember this all used to be so easy. But time and [junk] food has done its damage and the sheer thought of having to trudge this heavy ass to the gym already pains me. It's hard and it's brutal and you will want to cheat and give up.
Because feeling better will only get harder from here... but the pain will eventually get easier. The panting will become less obvious. The work won't seem like a chore. The food... well, it will remain tasteless, but you really can't do anything about that. Just make better choices, that's all there really is to it.
I know it doesn't sound like fun and why in anyone's right mind would you subject yourself to this kind of torture, right? Well, because you deserve it. Feeling like shit is not something that needs to be part of my daily rants. I don't want to have complain about pain or fatigue because i've been mistreating myself in that sense. You know what eating all that pizza does to you. You know what instant noodles are capable of. You could have totally stopped at 3 cookies. I want to be able to get up and make my family breakfast, go to work, and still have enough energy left in me to watch that movie after the dishes are done post-dinner. I wanna grab whatever shirt i have hanging on my bedside railing without having to worry about what my stomach will do to my ego. I wanna roll around the floor avoiding nerf darts whizzing past me without having to tell my kid i need a break. And I can't do any of that like this.
I came close to losing my right leg once. The doctor told me they needed to be careful to avoid that, but it was a possibility. I remember being scared shitless out of my mind. I just had a baby, i had just gotten back into shape, i had just started dancing again, i felt like i was getting my life back on track. I spent the next 5 months depending on crutches to move around. I'm sure there is no explanation needed to describe how NOT fun that was. The day i got out of physical therapy, without those god-forsaken aluminum alloy support, i remember feeling like the luckiest girl on the planet. I need to remember not to take that for granted.
Getting into shape might be really really hard. But undoing damage can be so much harder. So, cheers- to feeling like you wanna throw up, god damn lunges, and quinoa. May the day come where you shall be able to fit into those jeans hanging in your closet that haven't been worn in over a year.