Well, I’m not avoiding you for your own sake. It’s for mine.
I don’t want to have to declare my next Give-A Shit project. Don’t make me say it. Don’t make me make it a reality … .
Exercise every day.
AAAaaaw, hellfire, it’s out there. Gaaah!
Now, I gotta do it. I’m doomed! DOOMED.
I was going to do something food-related because I’ve been anticipating doing so since around Thanksgiving, thus I have conducted myself accordingly since then: eating constantly as if I will not have another meal. Ever. Because the loud irrational voice in my head keeps declaring that I’m going to give up eating altogether, and that sends the rest of my brain into a must-eat tizzy.
But, no, I’m writing more, sitting at the computer more, it’s winter, I’m lazy, yada yada yada, so I think I need to pay attention to the needs of my back first. That means exercise and stretching.
I’ve been whining in my head about this for a few days now. Anticipating my hatred of this prospect, despite the fact that, if done right, it will eventually make me feel better. (Or so the infamous “they” say.)
I have to keep the goal tentative and vague because I don’t know when the weather will allow walking, which seems to be the only exercise I can do without causing more damage. Unfortunately, if I can’t walk that leaves indoor exercising, which history and tradition have proven is just a perfectly awesome way for me to over-do things and hurt myself. Badly enough to require medical assistance. Whatever.
Therefore, in the interest of not damaging myself, finally, maybe, this year, I’m shooting for 15 minutes a day. Don’t laugh at me. I can walk a mile in deep snow, bundled for winter in that time. I can do three or four sets of crunches and pushups (yes, wimpy crunches, but I do full pushups so I’m not all puss), plus a few stretches. I can do my tai chi warm up and the 24-position routine. If I’ve been out shovelling or performing other heinous and strenuous activity, I can do three sets of my back stretches.
I’m just sayin’, I have options. Options that I might survive intact.
I’m not a believer in exercising every day, but I’m pretty sure that if I set my goal at five days a week I’ll be hunting ways to put it off for another day, tell myself I’ll make up days next week and do other stupid things to cheat myself. So every day. 15 minutes. Don’t be a wimp. It’s only 15 stupid, friggin’ minutes.
In the words of the Greek god Nike, “Just do it!” I think that’s written on a Greek tablet somewhere,
Yeah, I’m pretty sure at pam[at]viewfromthenorth40.com