It pains me to admit this, more for prides sake than anything, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I am unequivocally, irrevocably LAZY. Yes, sadly, it’s true. Hello, my name is Jenny, and I’m lazy.
Damn, I really hate admitting that.
I’ve fought admitting this for a good year or two, maybe because I was still trying to ride a wave of non-laziness that I’d been surfing for a good year or two prior. Now I’m starting to realize that I’m just balancing on a surf-board that is firmly grounded on the beach. That’s actually a really lame analogy but once started I felt unable to abandon it. And it does an okay job illustrating my point.
I suspect a part of my laziness, at least initially, was ignorance. I didn’t realize I was on the beach. I genuinely thought I was still riding a wave and fighting to keep my balance. After a while it dawned on me that I was beached and I apparently decided denial was an adequate approach (sorry, still can’t abandon the analogy).
Except “adequate” is no longer working for me. I find myself more easily winded with simple tasks and sucking air during more intensive labor. I should note, I’ve noticed this directly corresponding with the quality of my diet.
When I made dietary changes, moving towards primal, I noticed that I felt more capable of DOING. I still didn’t purposely exercise (except for that week or two when I pushed myself to train for the Army PT test – fizzled and died real quick) but I felt able bodied and the momentum to conquer tasks. Towards the end of the summer I was energized enough to lug 42lb patio blocks around and level and lay my own 5’x5’ (ish) patio area (25 blocks). I felt awesome after doing that and my diet was mostly on track.
Then, over the past 6 weeks my diet really started to slip. More sugar and sweet crap has inched its way back into my body and I’m winded more easily and my blood pumps madly. For instance, I engaged in physical labor this weekend for a work event and it left me gasping often. In another instance, last night I enjoyed a movie night with a friend that included sneaking flasks of booze into the theatre (we think we’re bad ass). By the end of the evening I was winded just walking out to my car and my blood pressure felt sky high (thank you alcohol and buttered popcorn).
So this past week has been a wake-up call. Over the last 6 months of changing my diet I had good intentions of getting the exercise habits ingrained once again, but that never materialized. And honestly, I didn’t really care. I’m not even sure I care now, but my body is throwing up warning signs. Time to care.
Time to get my ass in gear. And the lazy party of me is going “Ugghhhh!!!! No!!! I DON’T WANNA!!!!!”
So where the world do I even start getting my ass back in shape? I dread the thought of going back to the YMCA. I hate sharing machines and waiting to use equipment. I want to get in, sweat, and go. Non of this lolly-gagging crap (plus, you totally know everyone will be wiping down equipment and machines with clorox wipes and lathering their bodies with sanitizer…annoying).