There are going to be days when you just don’t want to get out of bed. When the whole world feels like it’s crashing down. When the caffeine hasn’t kicked in quick enough. When you’re a second short for everything, forced to wait longer for everything. When your get-up-and-go is gone, and all you want to do is lay down.
The words are at a loss. Nothing tastes right. Nothing feels right. You don’t want to talk, and you don’t want to hear about it. All you want to do is curl up in a small ball in the corner like a dog and do nothing. You don’t want to solve problems. You don’t want to “adult” anymore. All you want is some peace.
The thought of going to the gym, expelling the last bit of energy you have left, makes you want to gag. But you pull yourself together for the sake of pulling yourself together. You mix up another concoction in the blender, drink deep, shake off whatever funk this is, grab the bag, and go.
The ride to the gym was too quick, and now that you’re here, you just want to sit in the car, staring at the front door. The parking lot is full, so you know it’s busy inside. You aren’t in the mental space to fight for your right to work out. Ugh.
Opening the car door, you sigh to yourself—this one is going to be a quick one. In your head, you’re shaving down the routine. You have everyone else’s routine down, so you already know what machines are going to be full today. You hit cardio first to get the blood pumping, heart warmed up. You look around the sweat-glazed room.
The only thing worth doing today? It’s leg day.
You load up the leg press—three plates. Wow, why is that so light? One more 45. Ten reps deep. Damn. One more. Five plates deep. You got this. How the heck is the squat rack empty? Is today your lucky day? You’re skipping the lines today—the express lane opened up.
You regret eating a big breakfast, but here you are. Nausea sets in, but you still feel good. Lunge. Alright, you got this. RDL. Okay, okay, we’re getting somewhere. Legs are giving out. Damn, this feels good. You need a towel to dry off the sweat in your eyes.
You’re snapping out of it now. The endorphins are burning and curing.
Who said you didn’t want to be here? Just a little push.
Leave a comment