You know, the ones where nothing really went wrong and yet, nothing really went right either?
The days where you really don't want to do anything?
Except in my case, all I really wanted to do was eat a hamburger.
I didn't want to go to the gym. I didn't want to run.
I wanted a burger, dammit.
And while I knew I shouldn't have the burger, and that I should want to go to the gym, I just couldn't get the two to mesh.
And so I broke down and made myself a deal. I said to myself...
"Jessica, if you really want that burger, you're gonna have to earn it. Now get your ass to the gym, run your obligatory runstreak mile. Maybe kill a little time on the recumbent bike with a book and then, and ONLY THEN, can you go consume some delicious beef."
And so, upon making said verbal agreement, I started to change in to my workout clothes. And I as I threw on my gear and grabbed my shoes I said... "Well, while I'm there... I can probably do abs, too." And so, I ran my mile. (And my fastest one in a long time, mostly because there was a burger dangling in front of me as motivation - albeit not a literal burger. That would be weird.) And after the mile, I went and did my abs workout. And then I figured, what the hey... Why not do a few tricep dips too? And while I'm in between sets of tricep dips, lets throw in some pushups.
(ALSO: Note to Self: Do more pushups. Those were harder today than they should have been.)
And finally, I climbed on to the recumbent bike and knocked out a half an hour of biking while reading a texting... And dreaming of the glorious hamburger that would soon be mine.
Sometimes you need that carrot dangling in front of you. Or, better yet, a burger. Or a cupcake. Or twelve.
I mean, who really has a weakness for carrots?!?
But it's that first step. That decision, whatever your motivation is, to go out there and DO IT. Because I know that, at least for me, once I get started, it's so much easier to keep going. But getting started is the hardest part. And once you take that first step, it's so much easier.
I mean, I've always said that when running, my first mile is the hardest one and my worst. Such is the story of my life. (And no, that wasn't a horrible One Direction notice. Eegads. Now I'm sorry I even brought it up. Ignore that.
So there it is. Today's motivation wasn't some fancy "look good on the beach" or "do it for you, girl!" kind of thing. I just wanted to stuff my face.
But hey, it happens. And the runstreak stays alive. ***FIST PUMP!***