Lucky Thirteen

Today was day 13 and I have had a revelation.

If I treat going to bikram like it’s a chore, it becomes my chore. And let’s be honest, no one likes chores unless they are accompanied by a nice little allowance. And unfortunately, I’m paying to attend these classes so it’s not like an allowance circa 1997 at all. Not that I was hating my life for 90 straight minutes or anything today- just kidding, of course I was.

People will try to convince you that once you get into the groove of working out that it wont feel like a chore anymore. I went so far as to google this and came across a reddit page dedicated entirely to the question: How long was it before the gym went from chore to fun for you? (read if you care) The writer of the post said it took him/her longer than a year because they were really just “dicking around.” Other responses include:

  1. “the gym is my sanctuary. The place where I stop being Husband & Dad. Just that guy with the headphones and the Don’t “F” with me face”
  2. “I always finish a full 1.5 hour workout but I had to stop on monday cause I started to get bladder problems and feel like I have to piss all the time. Probably the A/C that is blasting in my small ass gym caused it.”
  3. “Y’all think most people should/would enjoy working out. That’s honestly silly.”

Ya’ll, I agree with person number three. I might be a tid-bit of a Debbie Downer right now, but I don’t think there has been a time in the two years that I have consistently worked out that I was like,

working out is my religion.

Which, spoiler alert, is what someone of Reddit wrote.

My revelation is this: Working out may never be what gets my blood pumpin’ (I wrote this not realizing the irony in the statement until I re-read what I wrote. Let’s leave it.), but it is a part of my life that I refuse to abandon. What it comes down to is that I need to change my own outlook on challenging workouts- I need to have the perspective that going to bikram is more than a chore. To do that, I have to identify why I’m going and what keeps me going back for more.

Maybe a little of this too:

Today after class I spent the day with my family on the beach where I fake laughed for a significant amount of time with my two year old niece. We dug up animals, we built shoddy sand castles, we jumped in the waves. We had a blast and not once did I think to myself: I really regret taking that ridiculously hot class with minimal breathable air where everyone smells and that woman literally farted in your face. She farted- in. your. face. Now that I’m reflecting on class today it’s amazing that I didn’t think about that even once until this moment. It’s because that 90 minute class is not the be all end all and when it’s over, it is over.

Tomorrow is day 14 and if I find myself cursing off the teacher inside of my head (for reasons that are not their fault- what a bitch, this room is too hot! Yes, you signed up for this class, you moron.) I will come back to my own mental list of why I’m doing this in the first place.

To rock a pair of jeans better than no other For my health. My mental happiness.

And to rock a pair of jeans better than no other. 


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