Work it Out

I killed my workout today. There was sweat, a lot of it. Some grunting, sprints, wall balls & squats. The stuff fat burning is made of. I didn’t want to go to the gym today. I wanted to run home from work and sit on my couch feeling sorry for myself.

You see, I was dumped yesterday. It’s a re-occurring theme in my love (lack of) life so although I knew it was inevitable in the back of my mind, I was blindsided by the timing. 7:30 AM is no time to dump anyone, let alone via text. If I hadn’t just finished a yoga class, I would have been less Zen in my response.

I felt drained and beaten down by the game and just wanted to hide out. I passed out on the train on my commute home. My mouth open, kind of sleep.  I woke up in time for my stop, feeling even less enthused for a workout. But as I dragged my pathetic butt to my car, I knew that I’d regret not going even more than agreeing to date a guy 6 years my junior in the first place.

What’s that saying? ‘The only workout you regret is the one you didn’t do.’  Well it’s true. I’ve never regretted showing up and sweating it out, even on my tiredest of days.  Not every workout is a killer. Some days I know I’m going too easy on myself but at the time, its all I have in me and it’s better than not working out at all.

When I workout I focus on my form, my breathing, getting lower, going deeper and feeling my body work for me.  Feeling the sweat, sometimes literally pouring off my face, is the most cathartic feeling in the world.

Do I still feel sorry for myself? Always. I also felt fantastic at the end of my workout knowing I gave it my absolute all. In the gym, as in life, sometimes that’s all you can do.