I saw the holiday’s coming a mile away.
On one hand I was really looking forward to them. I love spending quality time with the family and seeing all of the kiddos and cooking yummy food all day and the late night laughs and poker games. All of it. I love it. Those moments make the stories you tell later. BUT. The dread comes in when it comes to momentum. I’ve written about momentum in the past. Some day I’ll devote an entire post to my theory and views on momentum. But without getting into all of that right now…positive momentum is a good thing and when it’s disrupted it’s easy to get disillusioned or off track.
I saw the holidays coming a mile away. And I knew they would interrupt my positive momentum fitness wise. I always try to remember that the holidays themselves are actually only 3 days. Each holiday is one day. Our lives turn them into entire seasons. It’s kind of up to each of us how robust that season is, but ultimately they’re one day each. They don’t have to turn into “seasons”. Easier said than done, I know.
I get really into progress and momentum and moving forward. Like anyone does who has their eyes on a prize, right? So when I see something coming like a holiday that will most definitely interfere in that I do get a little frustrated. But this is life. Things get in our way. Okay okay okay to the point. So some time ago I agreed to do a training event just after the holiday. The training event just so happened to be located in a place that I’d love to vacation so I used the opportunity to schedule some time off. Unnnnnnnnfortunately for my fitness goals this training just happened to be a week after the holidays. Looking past all of the different ways I could have scheduled things, what that ultimately meant for me was one week of Christmas, one week back at it, and then two weeks off.
I know myself well enough to know that I will be very unlikely to exercise on vacation hence the two weeks “off”.
So I’m looking at this one week as a means of redemption and preparation. That’s an awful lot of pressure to put on one week. I had the opportunity to visit any and all large group classes at my gym because the small group was on break. I was determined to make a go of it. I was going to work out as much as my schedule would allow and eat as well as I could manage. This week was going to make up for every wrong I did over Christmas and was going to preempt every wrong I would do on vacation. It’s worth noting at this point that my trip was taking me to France. Home of: crepes, amazing chocolate, croissants, some of the best food on the planet, etc. So, you know, let’s be real.
Needless to say I put a lot of pressure on this one week. Sitting here at the end of that week, with a (very large, thank you Delta Sky Club) glass of Pinot Grigio in me, I can clearly see how ridiculous that was. I’m glad I did it though. I’m glad I put that kind of pressure on myself. I’m glad I made the effort. My legs are still sore from the ass-kicking Haley gave me in her bootcamp. I’ll definitely have to thank her for that. I needed to push myself that hard that day for so many reasons she’ll never know but all these days later, still being sore, I’m very grateful. My hands are raw. As in, I’m having a hard time carrying my luggage. The callouses came off, blisters were formed, then popped, then those got ripped off. And now the skin is cracking. It’s gross. My hands look nasty. I tell myself that “soft hands aren’t cute”. And in a lot of ways I totally mean it. But not because they’re not cute. Because my calluses and owies remind me of all of the hard work I’ve put in. They remind me of the hours, and the literal heart ache, and the PROGRESS, most importantly. They’re also a great reminder as I head out on vacation that even if I did just have Christmas break and everything that came along with it, that I still do deserve a vacation. And I deserve it guilt free. Because I’ve worked for it. And yes, that might mean taking a bit of a step back in terms of progress, but that’s not what’s important. What’s important is that I know when I get back I am going to hit it HARD. I am going to get right back in the saddle. This is a break, and nothing more.
I guess the point is, I’m learning how to control that ever important momentum. I’m less a victim to it like a sea sick child hanging over the edge of a boat. I’m more someone who see’s the waves coming, embraces them, moves with them, and uses their power to push me forward.
I’ve just ordered my second glass of wine. This bartender has the heaviest hand I’ve ever seen. I should stop now. But I sign off with sore hands, achey glutes, and a happy heart knowing I’m doing what I can and this isn’t over. I’ll be back. And I WILL hit my goal THIS year. 2015. This is my year.
Ciao ciao!