Making Time

For the longest time, I have made excuses for myself.  Excuses as to why I can't eat healthier.  Excuses as to why my clothes don't fit correctly.  Excuses as to why I haven't lost the baby weight.  Excuses as to why I can't work out.

Before Thanksgiving, my coworker talked me into joining the gym in our building at work.  She promised to make me go during lunch or the one evening a week I can stay late at work.  She said that going together would make it easier, and that we'd keep each other on track to a healthier lifestyle.  I was convinced, and wrote a check for a six month membership.  And then never went.

I belonged to a gym for most of November and all of December without ever once setting foot inside.  So, like thousands of other Americans, I decided I would start going to the gym on January 3rd.  Well, 4th.

But unlike just saying I would start doing something, I actually sat down with Nate to make a plan.  I was honest with myself and realized that I would never trade my precious lunch for a treadmill, which only left one evening a week to work out.  And I was honest that I wouldn't want to stay late on a Thursday to work out.  That left mornings.  Before work.

I am not a morning person.

No really, I am not a morning person.  It is physically difficult for me to wake up and get out of bed.  Every morning is a struggle.  So it was a big step for me to even think of adding a workout to my morning routine.  But I talked it over with Nate and we came up with a plan.  I roll out of bed on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, slap some sweatpants on and drag my sorry butt to the train.  After a nap on the train, I meet my friend in the lobby at work and head to the gym.  We work out for forty minutes or so, and then jump in the shower.  On Tuesdays, Nate takes Laura to school.  On Thursdays and Fridays, Laura stays home with my MIL.

It's only been two weeks (five workouts), but I am actually looking forward to going to the gym tomorrow morning.  I'm not looking forward to getting out of bed, but I can't imagine any morning where I don't dread getting out of bed.  (Have I mentioned that I love bed?)  I'm going to the gym tomorrow.  And I'll keep going next week.  I'm making time for myself, and I'm out of excuses.

Updated: Laura cried all last night.  From midnight on.  Nothing hurt, she didn't need a diaper, she shouldn't have been hungry.  I think she was just bored.  Which meant mommy and daddy didn't get much sleep.  So I was very tempted to skip the gym this morning and sleep in instead.  BUT!  I was a good girl, got my butt out of bed and hit the gym.  Even better?  I had a great workout.