Last week, I joined a group of other goal-setting bloggers and posted my Life List. One of my main goals was to get my butt, which suffers from DJWS (Day-Jobbing Writer’s Syndrome), back in the gym 4 times per week.
So far so good on week one into this effort. I went 5 times, and am going again later today.
I can’t gloat too much. After all, the new gym that opened on July 1 is literally around the corner from my house. If I had to face the traffic that was a regular part of my old gym routine, I would probably have been a douche and said “heck with this” at least once or twice. But since fate practically dropped a gym in a my lap, I’m taking the message seriously and waging a full-scale war against ass-creep.
I’ve gone twice in afternoons and three times in the pre-work hours I call “buttcrack o’ dawn.” After this work week, I’m already loving many things about this lifestyle change. The gym isn’t new to me – I’m a lapsed workout kid returning to the fold after a little more than a year away. Even so, the speed which which focusing on my fitness is bringing positive changes into my life is amazing to me.
The Good Stuff After 1 Week of “Return of the Prodigal Gym Rat:”
- After a morning workout, I am so much more ready to tackle my workday. Normally, I’m either dragging ass or alert but ready to smack the crap out of some annoying person by the time I get to the office. After a workout, I’m awake and alert but without the coiled-up-and-ready-to-spring psychobitch part. I have more of a “can do” feeling about the tasks that lie ahead and less of a sense of dread.
- At 6 am, at least right now, the gym is quiet and peaceful. The crowds, one of the things I used to hate about my old gym, are more on the after-5 schedule. Instead of my workout being one more thing that hinders my introvert’s quest for quiet reflection time, “buttcrack-o’dawn” gymtime gives me a healthy morning dose of it.
- I like the thought of looking my best, of standing in front of those full-length mirrors in the locker room and feeling trim and streamlined rather than a little weighed down and puffy. I may be an abnormal chick in that I hate shopping, only have a few pairs of shoes, and can’t cook for shit. But when it comes to wanting to be “thinner” I am a stereotypical girl. Knowing I’m doing something to get there makes me feel good.
- Speaking of those locker rooms, they’re the freakin’ Ritz. I’m used to my old gym with its clanging, small metal lockers, cold tile floors, and lack of private dressing space. The new gym has big wooden lockers, soft carpet and spacious dressing rooms. The “gettin’ pretty” spaces where you can plug in appliances and do your hair and makeup are larger and more comfy and well-lit than my own bathroom.
- My ideas are flowing. I feel more creative and inspired than I have in a while. My funny-bone is returning, and I like that.
These are all good things. But we all know that nothing is ever perfect, and goals wouldn’t be hard to achieve if they weren’t at least something of a pain in the ass. My first week of gymdom hasn’t come come without a set of struggles.
- Before, mornings were my DWT (Designated Writing Time). I’d get up, have my coffee and write away for an hour or two before the Hoover of a workday had sucked out my poor braincells. My writing got attention at my freshest hour. Now, to do the same, I’d have to get up at 3 am. I DID do that once, but I was a zombie by the end of the day.
- After I leave the gym, I’ve got all this inspiration and a few new ideas in my head. But the best I can do is jot them in a notebook and tuck them away for later, because I have to go to work. Instead of pouring all that fresh energy into my heart’s work, I’m usually headed to a conference room. Quite honestly, that pisses me off.
- I’m still readjusting to seeing naked chicks. Hey, I’m far from a prude. You can’t watch the HBO shows I love without seeing full-frontal vaginas and flopping penises on a regular basis. Naked people are just people without all the trappings. I’m just readjusting to having REAL naked people around me again, even in small doses. It takes me back to the that whole high-school locker room feeling, and back then I was much more of a geek than a cheerleader.
- Just as I crave more alone time to commune with the thoughts in my head, I am the type of person who needs a certain amount of flexibility in her life. Too much schedule, routine and structure makes me feel like a hamster on a wheel. Let’s face it, working 8-10 hours a day and then trying to work out and stick to a writing schedule doesn’t leave much room for “hey, I think I’ll do this now.” My days get pretty lockstep, at least during the workweek. That works well for a lot of people, but it rankles me. I’d curl up and die if I ever had to go to prison or join the military.
- Every now and then, the gym staff harsh my mellow with their sales pitches for classes and personal trainers. I’m a broke bitch who scrapes the monthly membership together, and don’t need to spend more on the extras. Joining a class would nix the “introvert time” benefit I get from my workout now. And truthfully, I don’t need a trainer. I kicked ass before, and know what to do. My problem was just that I stopped DOING it.
None of those things are roadblocks – just the little annoyances that come with any change. Once my mind and body get used to these adjustments, I’ll figure out a new best writing schedule. There’s no where to go but up, and the climb feels good.
Just the same, don’t muck up my mojo with your nekkid bums and your sales pitches. And if you’d be so kind, could you move those morning meetings back an hour or two? I’m in the freakin’ ZONE.