The Good and the Bad

Sigh.

Yes, that's right, I started this post with a sigh.

A dramatic one if you need it to be, but a sigh nonetheless.

After my weight upset last week, I decided to kick things back into gear and one of the things I did was head back to the gym.

For those of you who've been around here forever, you'll know that I used to go to the gym a lot. It was a regular thing and I was happy with it.

Fast forward (or rewing, depending on how your brain works) to about two years ago when C-Dawg and I were in a crazy nasty accident and all workout bets were off.

I went to exercise rehab (which I highly recommend) and they eventually got me on a program to head back to the gym, but when I got back to the gym things hurt even worse again and I got scared.

Then I decided to turn to walking for a while and that was great to get me back into a regular exercise routine, but it also allowed me to have an occasional easy out. "Well, I EXERCISED today, that should count!" And my time at the gym fell away again.

Then C-Dawg moved away and we decided we'd join run clinics together on our separate sides of the country and I got a massive sense of accomplishment and pride from going from a non-runner to a "holy cow I just ran for an hour!" runner.

But the next couple of run clinic sessions I joined, I found it more difficult to find the motivation to run on my own and then I fell and injured myself running and that slowed me down again. And so I went from not going to the gym but running to not going to the gym and not really running much.

So last week I decided enough was enough and I was going to put the gym back into my regular routine if it killed me.

And I did.

I went four times last week. And you guys? I'd forgotten how much I like it.

When there's a place like that that you've been going to for years it becomes so comfortable and safe. It's a familiar place and just walking in there calms me and I feel better.

And I forgot about all the good looking guys who're there. HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN?

I mean, sure, you see people when you're out running, but you're all going so fast (guffaw) that you get a glance and that's about it. But at the gym? They're there for a while and they're so cute! SO!

But more than that, it's just a good place and I'm happy there.

And as a major bonus, I can now add "running on the treadmill" to my list of activities I do at the gym. (Seriously, I remember when I first started at the gym, I emailed B to tell him how excited I was that I ran for three minutes straight! Which is so cool, since now I can do so much more.)

That's the good news.

The bad news? Whence comes the dramatic sigh?

I've hurt myself.

Hurt myself or re-injured something or re-irritated something that running and walking didn't annoy.

I'm thinking it's the recumbent bike, if you can believe that, so hopefully a week or so away from that will let me know if that's what did it, but let me tell you, there were a couple of days this week where I was so super upset.

I really don't want to go back to a place of being constantly in pain, but I struggled with that at the end of the week for sure.

I managed to manage it (ooh, good sentence Victoria, well done!) and am down to just twinges now, but it was disheartening and upsetting for sure.

I'm going to remind myself to take it a bit easier this week and that I don't have to go from zero to sixty. I can ease up to it and it's not an all or nothing deal. I'm just looking to get my routine back and to remind myself that there's more to my workout life than where I've been for the last year.

Hmmm... this post is kind of getting away from me.

Let me summarize.

Last week good? Back at the gym, hot guys and good workout and comfortable and familiar.

Last week bad? Hurt self, ow very much, sad, worried, ow is bad.

Hopefully this week will be a better one.

The end.