This time last year, I was in the best shape of my life.
It started when a friend of mine invited me over for dinner and we cooked this really delicious vegan Mac N’ Cheese, which before I stuck my fork in it, I thought “delicious vegan Mac N’ Cheese” was as real as a unicorn.
But mid stuffing the non-dairy cheese pasta into my mouth, she grabbed my phone and signed me up for OK Cupid.
“You should date again,” she said. “This time, try to meet a guy who treats you like you deserve to be treated.”
I rolled my eyes and started eating the pasta straight out of the pot.
“You should also start eating healthier.”
“Whhhhy?” I answered, food pouring out of my mouth.
“Because you’ll feel better and your skin will look better.”
I rubbed my finger over my bulging pimples.
I listened to her….well, not about the OK Cupid part.
I ditched the sugar, the carbs, the diary, the endless amounts of pizza and started eating well. I started working out once a day and drinking protein shakes right after (they tasted nasty and I never stopped holding my nose).
My body was feeling great.
But then something kind of traumatic happened in my life and everything stopped. You know, it happens. One day you literally wake up and your world looks like someone’s worst nightmare. But there I was, dealing with a million different things, and completely forgetting about going to the gym or eating anything but PB&J and cheap greasy pizza.
I don’t trust people who tell other people that no matter what, there is time for a quick workout every single day.
Come on. There are days when doing a push up is just not going to happen and there are days when using your 15 minutes of “free” time for a nap is really the right thing to do.
I guess a couple of months later, I wanted things in my life to be normal again so I did normal things. I went back to my favorite bootcamp class. It was always a really hard class but all of a sudden, it was impossible. For the first time in 28 years on this planet, I cried during a workout. I was mad at myself, my body, the instructor. I couldn’t keep up in the class and my body was screaming at me every time I tried.
It’s a funny feeling when you find yourself royally sucking at something you were once pretty decent at.
It was rough getting back in shape. It took one week of barely being able to do much at these workout classes. Another week of my body being so sore that I felt like it was belting out the lyrics of a Celine Dion song every time I tried to wiggle my legs out of bed. One final week of pushing through it all until I finally started to feel OK. To feel like myself. To have my body say to me, “Okay, Jen. Let’s do this together.”
But every so often, I fall back out of working out. Life gets tough. It gets busy. These aren’t excuses, these are realities. So when that happens, I stop working out. I don’t get mad at myself. I tell myself it’s OK.
People will tell you to get into a fitness routine. To not give up on your workout. To make sure you find time to stretch every day.
Don’t do anything the same every day. Do what you can. Know that your body will follow the goals your mind sets, even if you stop and go, stop and go, stop and go so many times.
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Also, let’s be Monday morning pen pals!