Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Permission

I hurt myself in the locker room getting ready to go work out. Who gets hurt in the locker room while getting dressed to go work out? Oh, yeah, that's right...me. Anyway someone, no idea whom, left the toilet seat up in the ladies only locker room (you don't even wanna get me started on that) I was in a hurry and frankly there are a few things you should be able to take for granted in life and the toilet seat not being in an upright position in the LADIES ROOM is one of them. I hit the ceramic edge HARD and it hurt and I cursed. Loudly.

And I finished getting dressed. I go into the gym and I pick out a machine. I'd wanted to take a step class but the instructor called out due to the snow. I end up on the elliptical cause I did the treadmill and the crossramp already this week and my butt hurt too much for the stationary bike. I've been giving myself 5 minutes to warm up, 3o minutes cardio, & 5 minutes cool down per workout. And today's plan was the same.

Normally once I get moving, into my groove, into my pace, I feel so good, and enjoy myself so much. But I never got to that place. Every movement felt off and my butt hurt. I decided to call it quits at 30 minutes, which is my goal for each day, a minimum of 30 minutes cardio. But I felt horrible about quitting early. Like I was cheating on myself. The only person I'm accountable to is me and yet I felt like I was doing something wrong. Not only didn't I find my groove, not only was my ass sore, but I could feel a muscle starting to cramp in my left calf and I felt more than a little nauseous. I knew it was time to stop but I couldn't reconcile quitting early.

I finally realized I had to give myself permission to do less before I end up hurting myself or burning out. Its happened before. Usually running does it to me; I get so into it competing with myself; pushing myself harder and harder often beyond my own physical limitations; till I'm on crutches, popping anti-inflammatories, thrice weekly physical therapy and trying to convince the orthopedist I don't need replacement surgery. I gave myself permission to quit. I'd met my goal for the day. I went to the locker room, to get showered and dressed.

And I remembered to check that the seat was in fact down first

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