Soooo….I had goals. And lo! They were awesome goals. And, with the exception of one, I knocked them out of the park.
Which one did I fumble on? (Look at me with my sportsball metaphors! Fun fact: I played softball for years, although I haven’t played since my team was kicked out of the LA blah blah blah league for a travesty on the field of play. I don’t remember exactly what happened, because afterwards, there were mimosas, but I think one of our players tried to [or possibly succeeded] in hitting an umpire.)
ANYWAY, all that being said, I messed up on the yoga goal. I’d been doing so well! So much yoga! I was going to yoga six whole times in May. I went once. One time. On May second.
*hangs head in shame*
There were so many confounding factors! We went to the coast! I had my kid’s afterschool program end of the year family night! I went to a celebration of life. (It was for a cat, but he was a very, very good cat.) The beer guy had to work and Alvie Bean is still (STILL!) not old enough to take care of himself. And on. And on.
I was very, very busy is what I’m saying.
This is exactly what I told my therapist when we were talking about how I’m too busy to add in the stuff I know needs to happen. And it’s true. I am busy. I work my day job 8 hours/day. On my lunch break and commutes, I’m usually working by either writing or editing. I generally spend 7-10:30 writing or editing each night (7:30-10:30 when I have Ye Olde Kidde), and spend a lot of the weekends writing/editing/ensuring that we don’t live in squalor.
See? Much, much too busy for pesky things like “exercise” and “eating.”
Oh yeah. Eating. (CW: disordered eating)
I prefer not to eat. If I could, I’d subsist on a diet of cheese, tartare, eggs (lightly cooked), and wine. However, I can no longer eat cheese (at least not much), and going out for tartare with quail egg every night is apparently “extravagant” and my bank says “no.”
I am supposed to be brainstorming ways to talk myself into prioritizing me and my health. So far, I’ve tried yelling at myself in very motivational ways.
[I couldn’t find a meme that accurately depicted me yelling at myself without be creepy or borderline offensive. Imagine something nice and amusing here, instead.]
So, instead of being “too busy” or “too tired” to exercise/eat/take care of myself, I’m supposed to take baby steps of kindness. Which sounds kinda silly when I type it out, but for someone like me, it might be the best way.
Easily achievable goals instead of stretch goals – at least when it comes to exercise and food – are what I’m supposed to be looking at now.
For June, I will go to yoga once/week and will make a point of getting on my bike once/week. I will also do 10 minute walks (like ten minutes in a row; not a combined total of 10 minutes) once/week. I will start logging my eating again and will eat regular meals…regularly. No more “forgetting” or “being too busy to eat.”
Ugh. That looks so pathetic all written out. I want something like my schedule from eight years ago (taken directly from my workout log):
Monday – rest
Tuesday – 10 mile bike ride, 3.5 mile run, 10 minutes of upper body strength
Wednesday – 1 mile swim
Thursday – 4.5 mile hill run, 90 minute yoga class
Friday – rest/walk
Saturday – 2 hours unspecified activity
Sunday – 12.5 mile trail run
Food – not tracked, but likely I ate all the food. I looked good, yo!
Never mind that it was 9 years ago, 1 kid ago, and that I was working part time (4 days/week), hadn’t quite started grad school yet, and didn’t care about spending time with my now ex-husband. it doesn’t matter! I should 100% be able to jump right back into that schedule, right? RIGHT?
So here I am, taking baby steps, not so that I can get back to that place, but so that I can imagine the possibility of getting back to that place.
So, motivation…I’m still lacking the push that it takes to go from an object at rest.
In the meantime, I guess I’ll try faking it ’til I make it. I’ve done this before. Granted, I was a lot younger and had 100% fewer children, but I made it work once, and I can do it again.
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