It’s ALWAYS the hardest part. Why is that?
I ran to the gym tonight and did a class, then ran home. It was my first workout since last Monday (besides the Sat Zombie event.)
It. was. AWESOME.
I felt great. I feel great! Frankly, I could have ran further and stayed at the gym longer but I had to get home and cook dinner!
The funny thing is, it took every fiber of my being to actually get my butt out the door. The excuse gun was loaded, cocked and ready to go in my head, but I wouldn’t let myself pull the trigger. Instead, I turned on autopilot and simply…
walked out the door.
Sounds easy enough right?
It should have been but, for some reason, it wasn’t!
Once the door shut behind me I was into it 100% and why WOULDN’T I be? It was the first time all day I was doing something just for me.
No baby needing to be fed.
No grade schooler needing help with his homework.
No husband wanting me to review his work.
It was me, my music and my thoughts.
What a luxury!
I’m so happy I didn’t give myself an excuse, but I have to wonder….
Why IS getting out the door the hardest part?