What I failed to account for is that my body is generally a whiny bitch, and really, who wants to listen to that all the time? She's all:
My shoooouuuulder hurts! I'm tiiiiired! I don't feeeeeeel like it! But goldfish crackers taste yuuuuummmmmmyyyyy! I want mooooorrrre! I need a naaaap!
And then I finally take her out on a good, long workout, and she turns all militant on my ass:
You know you need to work out every day! This is what you NEED, girl. Now figure out a way to get out here EVERY DAY! No excuses! Make it happen! Do I need to set the alarm for some ungodly hour, or are you gonna do this thing? You'd better get with the program!
And next thing you know I'm e-mailing my boss offering to teach my very own, self-created, yoga-pilates, boot-camp, 30 Day Shred knock-off, hybrid workout at 5:45am. (I told you I would plan the ultimate workout someday! And I did! But actually doing it on the regular is a whole 'nother thang. And, sadly, it don't seem to be my thang!)
Fortunately (for my sanity at 5am, not for my second chin), the boss turned me down, since no one else in their right mind wants to work out before 6:30am, which is therefore the earliest class she offers, but that's too late for me since the hubby leaves for work at 6:45am (I know! Early morning bus duty.) and I don't have child care until I go into my teaching job at 8. So, alas, no getting both paid and forced to complete the ultimate workout.
I think the problem here is that I only really enjoy two forms of working out: 1) taking super long walks or hikes, and 2) teaching exercise classes. This would be fine if I had the time to do either of the above every day. But I dropped my daily fitness class down to twice a week because it cut into our family time to the point where it felt like we had none at all. And ditto for long walks because: a) my husband is not really into super long walks or hikes, especially daily, and b) my son is not really into sitting in a stroller or a backpack for super long periods of time; he wants to get out and play while you meander around him at a much-lower-than-prime-fat-burning-target-heart-rate speed. Or, in my case, chill on the nearest bench.
And I have come to accept that I am never going to consistently do things I don't enjoy (like doing my very own ultimate workout all by my lonesome each day in my living room, rather than reading my library book all curled up on the couch) just because I ought to do them. Life's too short; I'm too lazy; call it what you will. It ain't gonna change, so I'm gonna to have to work around it.
My new plan: I'm going to try taking the jogging stroller to a long, flat trail along the Erie Canal, right at naptime, and see if the toddler will sleep while I push him and walk for two hours. Obviously, I won't do this every day, but if I do it once a week, and then leave my husband at home with the babe once a week while I do a quickie 45 minute hill-walking session in the 'hood, and then maybe once a week we all go hiking together and I wear the kid, that plus my yoga classes would be a good workout week.
Seriously, I am super lazy, and will therefore only ever do workouts I really enjoy or am being paid to do, but at the same time I've been spoiled by years of being paid to work out ten to twenty hours a week, and now I realize I am addicted to working out regularly and need it to be happy and feel balanced in my life.
And it has been a struggle since my son was born to make it happen. Except for my maternity leave, which was July through October, and the only thing I planned to do each day was hang with the baby and take a super long walk. Ahhh, I remember it so fondly! I even jogged! And liked it! Clearly, the post-partum hormones were making me crazy. But what a nice crazy it was! I could use some of that crazy 'round these parts, on a more lasting basis. But I think I need to have to have hours upon hours of unoccupied time before I get crazy enough to try jogging, and I kinda need the paycheck my job only seems to want to provide when I show up there each day and, y'know, work. Selfish, greedy job.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go NOT eat some delicious goldfish crackers that my body, that same devious bitch I resolved to listen to, is telling me she reeeeaaaallllyyyy wants. I might need to smack my own hand on it's way to the box to get the message through, but if I have to listen to my body all year long, then dammit, shouldn't she have to listen to me too? Pssst.....Just because it says whole grain on the box does not mean those things are healthy, body! This is one of those times you need to get with the brain, hon!
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