Continuous

Who knew this blog in it's infancy would be so... all about me? I should be sewing a skirt or something... but here I go with another bitchfest.

Sooo... I didn't go. I ate Venezuelan hot dogs and read Stephenie Meyer's partial draft of Midnight Sun until 1am.

I'm not going to lie to you folks. I'll come clean about my successes and my failures. The whole point of this blog is really to be honest with both my readers AND myself; to hold myself accountable for what I say and do.

(Well, that's not true. The purpose of this blog is to show off stuff that I think is cool, and maybe do a craft or two. But right now I'm going through a fitness-crisis: e-sue me.)

Referring to my current state of gymlessness, I almost just wrote, "When this happens..." but that is disingenuious. Me losing another day to laziness doesn't "happen," like a sudden rainstorm or a broken glass. I straight up didn't go. Granted, I could give lots of reasons: The Boyfriend gets off late and we had to go grocery shopping, then I had to make dinner, blah blah blah... whatev. The reality is that there are plenty of women out there who have full time jobs AND children to take care of, and they *make* the time to work out. They don't just sit on the couch and hope "working out" walks up and slaps them in the face. Couch-sitting doesn't appear to be helping my race time, ya know?

So lemme try again: When I *choose* not to go to the gym, I mentally destroy myself as punishment. Trust me: no one is a bigger critic of me than me. And I get so disgusted at my lack of sustained chutzpah that I use all my energy tearing myself apart until there is really nothing left with which to get hopeful again. I wasn't kidding yesterday when I said, "tomorrow the process will start again." Because here I sit, stoked to go work out again... and I kinda doubt I will. And that's the problem. If I doubt I will do it, I probably won't. Self fulfilling prophesy, stimmt das? (right?) Ya, das ist stimmt. (Yup, that's right.)

Working out used to not be a choice for me: I was going to the gym after work, and that was that. There wasn't any other choice because... well, there just wasn't. Now I allow myself the choice, and I usually choose a whole lotta butt-sittin'. Again, it sounds so simple: just go. Just do it. And it is simple, really; I just have to believe that. I'm getting closer, I think.

Blech. What a pity party I'm throwing here. All this negativity doesn't help, just brings me down. Hopefully through this writing, (which I am diggin' more and more, btw,) I will introduce you to bits of me... not too much at once, don't wanna frighten my (zero) readers. One thing I have learned something, though, that gets me though my deeper days: sometimes I have to just stop everything, look at where I am, and say, "Okay. Enough with the shame spiral. I didn't go to the gym yesterday. Stop judging yourself and let's figure out how to do it." Is that letting myself off the hook to easily? What should my punishment be, in that case? (Maybe I should be dommed to communicate in nothing but rhetorical questions for all of enternity. Would that ?)

If you were to meet me in real life, you would reaize my writing is like my speaking: quick, random, flowing. This cupcake has a quirky filling that some luuurve and some... not so much. I hope you ride it out with me.

I think I am thinking waaaaay too much about this. I like to work out and sweat, so I should do that. However, I like to eat and watch "The Office" reruns on Netflix, too... therein lies the conundrum. What will a Cupcake do?

~*~*~*~*~*~

Later.

I ate well. (Maybe I slipped in a Junior Mint Inside Out or two). I did situps and pushups. I WiiFit boxed it up for about 30 minutes.

"It may sound strange, but many champions are made champions by setbacks."
~ Bob Richards

And tomorrow, the whole process will start again.

<3
Cupcake