Today was one of those days. One of those awful miserable days, at the bottom of the hormonal roller-coaster, sore and stiff and tired and bitchy. The last thing I wanted to do was go to the gym. I did not want to leave the house at all.
But the veggie tray for VD at school tomorrow needed veggies and “NoNut Butter” (Oh…mygawd that stuff is DISGUSTING) for the celery, and some other necessities; laundry detergent, milk, something for dinner, and those pretty dish towels I have been talking myself out of buying for weeks. And some other random errands I’ve been avoiding. And the gym.
So by 10am, I had managed to stall in every way I could think of short of climbing back into bed and staying there. I dragged my ass out to the car, sat in it and pouted for a minute and drove off.
There are days that I push myself to do some pretty awesome things. Like running intervals, or washing the floors, or acing a test… Those are the pushes that feel the best. The ones where the rewards are big and shiny and the results beyond the sum of the effort I put in.
Not today. Today was just a push to do anything. And I don’t feel particularly rewarded, and I don’t feel like doing any more. (more pouting here)
BUT. I did one thing that made it a little easier. I took all the great things that I’ve been doing lately and told a friend that I hadn’t talked to in ages. Just plugged it all down in an email and as I was writing it out, I could feel my mood lifting. Something worth the effort.
I’m sure I will feel better tomorrow. If not, another push.