Alrighty, its Tuesday and it is confessional time.
(Anyone remember the old Real World or original reality tv shows where they would go into private rooms for their ‘confessionals?’ They don’t call it that anymore, do they?)
I got a smack of reality or failure last night when I got an email notification. It read in bold letters
‘its been 14days since your last workout’
That isn’t true and you (my phone) are evil for trying to imply that. The truth is, that yes, it has been 14 days since I last woke up at 4:30am for my treadmill time. I confess that...but that isn't my only workout and you (phone) know that.
But I have worked out…..well, at least until last Wednesday. Wednesday I awoke with serious pain in my neck or shoulder. It reminded me of my dislocated shoulder from four years ago. I’m not a pillpopper by any means, avoid it typically, but here I am in my self-imposed confessional admitting to needing some serious pain meds. Bust out the stash of hydrocodone and/or muscle relaxers, anything to help.
The intensity was bad enough for me not to feel comfortable driving with the kidlets in the car, that kind of bad.
But that was through Sunday, which of course brought out another monthly ailment to push me back to running for the bottle of painkillers (Aleve people, that’s as hard core as I get for this!)
So that evil email that yelled at me and guilted me about ‘not working’ for 14 days was a half-eviltruth. Yes, I admit to not waking up at 4:30 due to frantically getting the house set up for being on the market and then an injury. But that truth is false within the next 18hours because the alarm is going and I’m back to feeling human again.
And Jillian just worked my bootay less than an hour ago as well.
So take that, you mean email you.
(And I will gladly and smugly update my dailymile widget at 5:30am when I have to be off the treadmill.)