So as you all know, I am getting my masters, right?
And as you also know, I am partially killing myself in order to do it.
Unfortunately, some of what comes with the territory is the fact that I have NO time for myself.
This would include working out.
However, I have decided to cut out some other activities that I do in order to begin to make time for myself to work out again.
Back in college, I worked out 5 days a week. I was pretty darn fit if I do say so myself (with the exception of my freshman year, when I became a lard-ball and packed on 20 pounds. S.E.X.Y. I then realized that I could not just eat like a ravaged beast at all meals, and began looking normal again).
Then, after college, I got married. I didn’t work out QUITE as much, but still kept a pretty good routine.
Fast forward 2 years (starting a year ago) when I started my masters program.
The working out? COMPLETELY STOPPED.
Like, shamefully I have probably worked out a grand total of 20 times in an entire year. Wow. I can’t believe I just put that out on the web. BOO.
In case you didn’t catch it? In college? I used to work out 20x in a month. Shame.
Anyway. So even though my clothes have stayed the same size? The fitness? Gone. The muscles? Gone.
Oh sad day.
So what did I finally decide to do?
Work out! I am neglecting some of my other duties in order to work out. I am letting go of my perfectionist tendencies to try to get all ‘A’s and prioritizing my body instead.
And yesterday was the first day I had worked out in forever. Man, it felt good.
But today? I feel like a shark rammed his teeth into my butt, and a rhino decided to slam me in the stomach, while my arms feel pleasantly like an elephant decided to stomp on them.
I was babysitting ‘J’ tonight, and he wanted to sit down on the ground to play a game. As soon as I sat, I yelled “OwwwwwwwwwwWWWWWW.” He thought it was hilarious. So what did he do? As soon as I got up to leave and start cooking dinner, he started poking my freaking legs.
Wow. If you want to know how annoying a 9 year old can be? Just tell them about some pain you are experiencing. They will make sure to make it 10000x worse.
So I’m trying to cook while he is poking me in the legs, cracking up. So I send him to his room. The first chance he gets? He comes up to me and pokes me in the face. Why? Because I hate it. He goes back to his room. He comes out again and pokes my legs again.
I temporarily contemplate stomping on his toes just to see if it feels good. I, however, demonstrate restraint and do not. He is a lucky kid.
That time? He got sent to his room for much longer. And I threatened to take away his D.S. He stopped poking me from then on.
But my butt, legs, and arms? Still feel like crap.
Ahh the joys of being out of shape.