The problem with waking up early to go to the gym is that the whole day suddenly seems longer. You wake up and schlep out the door half-awake. You get to the gym, which is loud and bright and filled with perky people. You wake up when your heart starts crying for mercy as you do cardio on the elliptical, and by the end of your workout you’re wide awake and you come home to find everyone else in your family is still sound asleep.
By the time they wake up, you’ve been up for hours and suddenly your day is split into two parts, and by the time you get to the evening you feel like the morning was actually yesterday and you’re exhausted but you don’t know why because you worked out yesterday not today and…Oh, wait, this morning was today. Weird.
I have worked out for at least 25 minutes every day for three days in a row. I know this may not seem like much to people who exercise regularly, but it’s a lot for me. I’m sore. Very sore. So sore, in fact, that I had trouble sleeping last night because I felt like I had a toothache in my legs.
To be honest, I really dislike feeling sore. Some people like it. From what I hear, some people love feeling that burn that lets them know they committed fitness. For me, though, it makes me sad.
I like feeling good. I love being warm and snuggly, with a full belly and plenty of sleep and maybe a soft blanket to cuddle under (wow, Aidan and I have a lot in common).
This whole soreness business is the opposite of what I like. I know it’s good, and I’m thankful I have the opportunity and means to attain my goal of losing weight, but if I’m being honest I have to say I really don’t enjoy the process much.
Maybe if I’d been more sporty as a kid, I’d feel differently. I was one heck of a reader and had an incredible vocabulary, but was painfully awkward and far more comfortable lifting books than balls.
Wes assures me it will get better, that the more I workout the more my body will become accustomed to the abuse. I sure hope so. Because I can say with certainty that cupcakes never made me sore (and yes, I know cupcakes make you fat and that makes your knees sore, but I like to think the cupcakes aren’t the problem, it’s the meat and veggies I eat in addition to the cupcakes that are making me fat).
*sigh* There’s really no hope for me, is there? I have the sneaking suspicion that it’s exactly this kind of self-deluding nonsense that got me into this mess in the first place.