I experienced a weird phenomenon on Wednesday. I really, really did not want to work out. Wednesday evenings are usually one of my favorite workouts; it's an hour of pilates and an hour of yoga taught by my two favorite instructors at the gym. I'd gotten into work early enough that I was able to leave early enough for class without feeling guilty. I had my awesome new leggings to wear.
And yet. I guess I was just tired from work, or stressed out by some weird life stuff, or something, because I found myself checking the clock every five minutes in pilates, and wondering if I could even make myself stick around for yoga afterward. I did, because I really do like the instructor and she's rarely there, but even in that class I found myself literally counting the seconds in my head when I couldn't see the clock. I thought about walking out. I'm glad I didn't, but even that didn't really give me the sense of accomplishment I thought I'd have after class. I'm glad I pushed through, but I'm more interested in discovering the source of my lack of motivation and getting myself back into a mental place where I'm excited about the gym.
No comments:
Post a Comment