Friday, January 15, 2010
They honeymoon period
The honeymoon period as defined by Wikipedia: "The honeymoon period is the phase early in a long-term relationship with a person, place or thing that is characterized by greater than typical joy and lesser than typical friction. It is typically the first 3 months when a couple begins to date." Me and exercise have only been dating for two weeks and I am already ready to dump him. Don't worry I am not giving up; I made a commitment, but ugghh. It reminds me of washing dishes. I roll up my sleeves, sometimes even don a bright pink Williams Sonoma apron, feeling extra flirty and domestic; I pile in the dishes, pour over some sweet smelling soap and let the fresh hot water spill over the messy pile. "Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed," I sing/hum, or maybe some other soft rock favorite as I attack the dishes. I'm feeling good; I've got cheesy music in my head, but then a nose twitch. I need to scratch the stray hair away from my face, so I pull my hand out of the water and the smelly grime is now streaked across my cheek. "Just hang on a little longer," I say to myself, but the half-way point is the worst. The water is cold, there are food floaties trying to attack my pruney fingers and I am forced to dip my arms deeper and deeper into the sink which now feels like swamp goo. With the exercise, I got my cutsie outfit, the IPod shuffle, the good routine, but now the floaties in my head are saying "This is too hard." I am half way through my exercising "dishes"--they say it takes a month to form a habit, I’m on week two-- and right now I do not like the feel of the cold, eerie water. But as with dishes I suck it up, wash em’ up, and get em’ out. You may be wondering why I compare exercise to housework so often, well it is really simple: I HATE THEM BOTH! But they both must be done, and there is never an "end" date to either. Also the housework analogy helps me pinpoint exactly why I am feeling so irritated with this whole process. So I guess I need to wash up my attitude and continue hanging my big butt out to dry every morning at 6:00 a.m.