Wow. Who knew? I am completely addicted to working out. I was talking to a friend last night about all the exercising I’ve been doing, and how my whole new daily routine has been fantastic, and how I’m actually accomplishing MORE even though I added an hour and a half to my day by going to the gym.
“You know what?” she said. “You don’t sound depressed anymore.”
And then Today happened. I hadn’t planned to go to the gym on Fridays, but I may have to change that. Today I was back to rushing around trying to get me and the kids ready so we could get Ruthie to preschool. I was packing her snacks and getting Thomas dressed at the time we should have been walking out the door.
I felt rage-ful to my core.
We rushed, I barked orders, I was impatient that they wouldn’t move fast enough, and we were 10 minutes late to class. Once I get worked up like this, there are only a few things that will bring me down again: liquor, deep breathing, and kicking the treadmill’s ass.
The contrast of today was a big eye opener to the success of exercise in my life. Here I sit in the dark, unmotivated, lurking on my computer and wasting time, while all week I’ve been a machine of accomplishment all day until I collapse into bed (at 9:30!).