So I was bragging about a day when Jake didn't go work out and I did a while back. Yeah, Jake had done some sort of activity during the day an was really tired, and a little sick, when it was time to go to the gym...and I went it anyway. Without my pardner. Sans my external motivator. Minus guilt that my actions would harm another. And I went anyway! I was pretty excited about it. It was a sign to me that I was on my way to being self motivated. And then the weekend happened. That's when I learned about negative momentum. A body at rest...will find something 'interesting' on TV even if it is a Friends re-run.
I'll start with the typical excuses. I had a rough week. I had a meeting that would have made average person curl up into a weepy ball. I wasn't feeling 100%. I had even read in the book that it was important to take days off to help rejuvenate your muscles and get back up to speed. I'll just tell you what I heard a comedian say once....Excuses are like asses. Everyone has one, and they all stink.
When Thursday rolled around and Jake was too tired to go. So was I. I think I even fell asleep early that day. Then Friday came and I knew he wouldn't let me go two days in a row without going...but inside I was secretly hoping, "Don't mention the gym. Don't mention the gym." He was tired again...and we didn't go. Saturday rolled around and I did something in the morning that I called exercise, because it was, but Jake called it a cop-out. He said that delivering flyers in the neighborhood wasn't strenuous enough. Well, I think I walked over four miles and I jogged between some of the houses. I sweat and I did the route faster than I ever have before. I would call that a workout. I got the 8% equivalent of, "Yeah, yeah, yeah...whatever you think old man." I will tell you that Saturday afternoon I felt like I had taken some sort of experimental medication designed to make every muscle in my legs and midsection sore...and it worked like a charm. No gym that night. (I had a pretty good excuse though. I had a chance to be on national TV. I will explain further nearer to December. I signed a release.)
Then Sunday came. I was still sore and I used the soreness to secretly project onto Jake the desire to skip the gym again. It was a late night on Saturday. I was still sore. I hadn't used an excuse in a few hours. We didn't go. Monday...similar to Sunday. They swam and played soccer. I just didn't go.
Last night, I forgave myself for the lapse and we dragged our lazy selves back to the gym! I wanted a sign that it would be ok. As we walked to the door Jake said, "Oh, I forgot my card. The thing is on my keys and I didn't bring them." When we got inside, the guy just waved us through. How about that! We're regulars! The people at the front don't need us to prove that we belong there because they see us all the time. Sign received and understood. It will be ok. But I do need to watch that annoying little voice that tells me it would be ok to just stay home one night. Because one, turns into two. Two turns into a weekend. And a weekend turns into a trip to the all you can eat bacon cheeseburger palace complete with a Dr Pepper soda fountain. I gotta stay away from that place! (if they ever build it)
I'll start with the typical excuses. I had a rough week. I had a meeting that would have made average person curl up into a weepy ball. I wasn't feeling 100%. I had even read in the book that it was important to take days off to help rejuvenate your muscles and get back up to speed. I'll just tell you what I heard a comedian say once....Excuses are like asses. Everyone has one, and they all stink.
When Thursday rolled around and Jake was too tired to go. So was I. I think I even fell asleep early that day. Then Friday came and I knew he wouldn't let me go two days in a row without going...but inside I was secretly hoping, "Don't mention the gym. Don't mention the gym." He was tired again...and we didn't go. Saturday rolled around and I did something in the morning that I called exercise, because it was, but Jake called it a cop-out. He said that delivering flyers in the neighborhood wasn't strenuous enough. Well, I think I walked over four miles and I jogged between some of the houses. I sweat and I did the route faster than I ever have before. I would call that a workout. I got the 8% equivalent of, "Yeah, yeah, yeah...whatever you think old man." I will tell you that Saturday afternoon I felt like I had taken some sort of experimental medication designed to make every muscle in my legs and midsection sore...and it worked like a charm. No gym that night. (I had a pretty good excuse though. I had a chance to be on national TV. I will explain further nearer to December. I signed a release.)
Then Sunday came. I was still sore and I used the soreness to secretly project onto Jake the desire to skip the gym again. It was a late night on Saturday. I was still sore. I hadn't used an excuse in a few hours. We didn't go. Monday...similar to Sunday. They swam and played soccer. I just didn't go.
Last night, I forgave myself for the lapse and we dragged our lazy selves back to the gym! I wanted a sign that it would be ok. As we walked to the door Jake said, "Oh, I forgot my card. The thing is on my keys and I didn't bring them." When we got inside, the guy just waved us through. How about that! We're regulars! The people at the front don't need us to prove that we belong there because they see us all the time. Sign received and understood. It will be ok. But I do need to watch that annoying little voice that tells me it would be ok to just stay home one night. Because one, turns into two. Two turns into a weekend. And a weekend turns into a trip to the all you can eat bacon cheeseburger palace complete with a Dr Pepper soda fountain. I gotta stay away from that place! (if they ever build it)
