This morning I had an epiphany. It happened when my alarm went off at 5:30am and scared the shit of me. My epiphany? I didn’t want to workout. It’s a pretty amazing epiphany. And yes, after I yelled at my 8-year old being awake (and trying to play on my computer — what the hell kid?), I went back to bed until 6:45. It was glorious and needed.
I haven’t regularly been working out in the morning for months – instead I’ve opted for night workouts. I would work out after dinner — and then I would have the energy to work until midnight (or later). Since I’m not working till midnight (at the moment), I decided this week that THIS would be the week that I would start working out in the morning again. Except it just wasn’t happening.
Every morning this week I’ve had an excuse. I realized, I crept back into bed today, that I wasn’t going to want to get up tomorrow or Friday either – so why make myself? I’ve also enjoyed going to bed at a REASONABLE time (10:30 <–how old am I?), so I don’t want to ruin that with a nighttime endorphin rush.
So, I’m sitting on my ass.
I figured it’s not often I take an entire week off of working out. The last time this happened was probably AFTER Evan was born almost two years ago.
It’s actually harder than I thought it would be to skip my workouts (I was SO tempted to throw on my running clothes after work and go out for a quick run – I really do like how it helps me decompress). This just means I’ll be ready NEXT week to start waking up early again. Umm. Sure. (yes, it’s really going to happen)
Until then… selfies and funny faces with the baby are my workout.
When’s the last time you hit the reset button?