The last 14 months have been a roller-coaster of highs and depressing lows, confusing twists and turns. I feel like I deserve to treat myself to this, kind of like a little celebratory break for surviving.
Last night I started my packing. I've separated the 'holiday' wear from the 'everyday' wear so I could be clear on what I'm still missing.
Because the last 3 weeks have been a bit of a health nightmare, I've put on just under 3 kgs and it all sits on my stomach, the one place I'd worked so hard to trim down. Sods law really but I won't let it ruin my holiday.
I woke up motivated to go to the gym this evening but as usual that dread has set in. I shall go anyway. I just need to get back into the habit of exercise. I know I'll feel better for going, and will sleep like a log tonight.
I've been training for something on and off for the last year, exercise being the substitution for my lost relationship. Sad really, and yet it's probably the best thing I could have done.
It's better than going out and getting pissed, ending up in bed with a random and okay perhaps I don't enjoy it as much I probably would the getting pissed and ending up in bed with a random, but I've learnt a lot about myself in those hours spent at the gym...
- I'm actually a decent runner when I can empty my mind
- I can achieve most things I put my mind too
- I enjoy the short lived sense of achievement
- It's a great way to spend 30-45 minutes on myself
I'm sure I can lose half of that weight gain in 2 weeks if I'm just consistent and watch what I eat (she says as she finishes a mini Terry's Orange bar). So, as I check the clock... 55 minutes left of my work day... I guess I'll see you on the flip side - or the gym's changing room. Got a beach body to regain!
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