I had an epiphany in the middle of yoga class this evening about how far I have really fallen off my workout wagon since the summer. It wasn’t a particularly happy epiphany and made for an awkward class as I struggled to find my balance, physically and metaphorically.
I had a pretty decent routine of swimming, yoga, and pilates going in the first half of the year. I almost never managed to achieve the holy grail of five workouts in a week, but I usually made three and often four. Then everyone in the family got sick over the summer and our usual habits got upended and it took a while for everyone to settle back down. My regular schedule got disrupted and just never got back on track.
They say that long distance runners hit a wall at some point in their run, and if you can break through the wall, you can learn to enjoy the hard work. I’m sure every endurance sport has its own version of that wall. You keep hitting it, and either you learn to overcome it and get through it, or you don’t. But really, this isn’t limited to sports. Life has its own ways of throwing up walls like that when it comes to picking up and sticking to good habits. In a way, it’s just like the metaphors for falling down and getting back up again but it goes beyond that. I’ve been ok at getting back up again, but not at staying up. I keep falling down, and lately it’s been very often, rather than the odd time.
It was not a particularly happy class, but on the other hand I feel like I’ve fallen hard enough now to get angry about it. It’s time to get back up and stay up. One workout at a time. Next goal: back to swimming.
The Feathered Rose 