Here we go again

Every day, I think about exercising. I think about how good it feels to exercise hard. The sweat, the endorphin rush, the feeling of accomplishment, the knowledge I've done something so good for myself.

And every day, I neglect to exercise.

Perhaps it is Start-of-Year-Two malaise. That could be it. I have been within striking distance of 199 pounds for what feels like months now. I would very much like to land that particular plane, and yet, and yet, I do nothing to bring it safely to ground.

And boy, do I feel bad when I don't work out. Not just emotionally, though that too. I feel like I've let myself down, like I could so easily slip back into my old ways. But physically, as well, I just feel crummy. Kind of flabby, less energetic. And it's true, what Newton said: a body at rest remains at rest until and unless acted upon by an outside force. He sure was smart, that Newton.

At least I'm eating apples and the like. Mostly. And bacon, and this week croissants because I was stuck for three days in a crappy hotel that seems to think that croissants and jam make a healthy breakfast. Smartly, though, at last, I remembered to pack my own fruit cups and yogurt. So there was that, at least. But also the croissants.

Now, back to Newton. I also packed my sneakers and workout clothes, but I might as well have left them at home. I couldn't get it together at all this week to exercise, the way I usually can when I'm in a hotel. I seem to be suffering from some inertia. And I would very much like to kick its ass. Perhaps that will be the outside force Newton spoke of.

I feel the need, deeply, to get back on track. To quit fucking around already and get back down to it. I was in a good place over the summer, with the eating and the yoga three times a week, and the long walks and all the rest of it. It felt good, and it was paying off. But for the last seven weeks, I've forgotten all about being in the moment. I've forgotten all about honouring myself, taking time for myself, treating myself right. I've forgotten all about just being, all about breathing out, all about letting go. How'd that happen? I guess I got a little stressed out, what with not being allowed to go to work and all.

But no more. It's ridiculous, now. Yes, I liked my old routine. But life is change, and I have got to be able to keep up with it, to come around to it a little sooner than seven weeks in.

I can't wait to get a good sweat going. I welcome the agony of ashtanga on Monday. And kickboxing. And oh god yes, cardio striptease. I'm back, baby, I am back.