Motivation...it's a fickle thing.
Sometimes your goal is burning brightly in your brain and your heart, making you so excited you can hardly sleep. You have no trouble sticking to the plan because you are soooo motivated to keep moving forward.
Other times... not so much.
But you have to take that first step.
These last two weeks have been in the "not so much" category. (Points to the "Smackdown" blog from last week)
Is it that I'm not excited about my goals? That I don't want to accomplish my Great Things? It's not that at all.
It's more the fact that I'm human and sometimes the Great Things get trumped by the Little Things, which takes energy away from the Great Things.
Some days I love the tracking and monitoring and being proactive. Some days I just wanna say scr$w it.
And that makes the first step a really, really hard one to take.
When I feel the scr$w it times coming on, I scale back... this week, for example, I absolved myself of any guilt of not getting to the gym 4 days, and being perfectly content with my 2 treadmill runs and joining the training group on Saturday. After all, I have fun family time to focus on and _finally_, after 2-3 weeks of hideous allergy issues (like having to use my inhaler for the first time in well over a year!) the paper ran a feature declaring that Tucson is having the Worst. (and earliest). Allergy. Season. E-V-A-R! Duh... I coulda told 'em that!
This morning, that first step was a doozie!
Way back when I was first getting myself into the exercise habit, and keeping focused on the end goal (aka looking hawt in my weddin' dress - by the way, NEVER discount the power of a "superficial" goal! You can say you're doing it to get healthy all you want, but really, what's more motivating most times: Being healthy or lookin' good in your jeans?)
I would have arguments in my head with my inner princesses. Usually the adult me wanted to sleep in, the princess me's wanted to get my butt out the door and on the road to hawtness.
This morning, the princesses were sound asleep and the inner argument was with myself.
I should get more rest so I don't wear myself down and get sick. *sniff*
I should get my butt to the gym so I don't keel over on the training run Saturday morning. *snuff*
Ultimately I took that first step.
I got up and out of bed (dragging sniffy and snuffy with me) and the plan that I would do 3 instead of 4 intervals, cutting the workout short by about 5 minutes.
At the gym, I stood on the treadmill, staring at the bright green "START" button. Just had to push it to get it started... Gah! Ok fine. I pushed the button.
I took the first step... and the second. By 10 minutes in, my coffee started to work and I felt a little perkier. By 15 minutes in, I was a Supah-Stah!
By my final 25th minute I was sweaty and tired, but ready to take on the world.
I just had to take that first step.
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