him vs. gym
i've stopped going to the gym. i've been living in a thin mist of denial about that, but this past weekend i talked to my mom and she said "i feel so much better since i ran 18 miles and biked 50 on Saturday." my 47 year-old mother is training for ironman florida. me? i'm eating cheese crackers all day and drinking martinis every night.
i was so good about working out this summer. i went 3-4 times a week for about six weeks. i was starting to see changes. i was feeling better about myself. i had more energy. i was sleeping better. i don't know what happened. it just slipped away from me. ever since my boyfriend and i got back together, i haven't been motivated to go. maybe lower self-esteem had been motivating me. now that i feel happier, ninety minutes at gold's just doesn't seem like time well spent.
i admit it (like i've admitted it before): i'm lazy. i'm not denying that. at my core, i'm a sedentary person. also, with great originality, i blame my schedule (work, therapy, social life).
yesterday the new boyfriend and i were IM'ing and he asked "are you going to the gym tonight?" i had my gym clothes in my car. i had put them in my trunk weeks before. i didn't want to have to answer his question, because i knew there was only one answer i could live with. there's no way i could say "no" and still feel good about myself. the guilt forced me to type "yes."
the gym is intimidating to me. i'm scared of just about every machine except for the treadmill. i always think people are judging me. i half-expect some gym stud to tap my shoulder and say "you realize you're doing that totally wrong." so i analyze the instructions on machines i've been on dozens of times before.
but i went. i went with the intention of running 3 miles on the treadmill. then i got into the locker room and went to the bathroom and told myself "i'm leaving. and when j___ or d___ asks me how the gym was i can say 'eh. it was okay.' and i won't be lying." then, with my brain walking out the door, my body went through the motions: getting undressed, putting on the running outfit my mom sent me, throwing my gym bag in a locker, and heading out onto the floor....
it wasn't so bad. i ran a mile. i did 20 minutes of work on my stomach and shoulders. just enough to get me over my nautiluphobia. i ran another mile on the treadmill. i left after 35 minutes. it's a crap workout. but it's a start.
in our IM conversation, my boyfriend and i had been talking about the possiblity that we may be spending too much time together. other things in our lives (like the gym) are being neglected. but moderation is not my forte. when i was a pothead i smoked 24/7. "because it feels good" was enough of a reason. the fact that my relationship with the canadian, my career and my self-esteen suffered couldn't stop me. it's the same with d___. i feel addicted.
i love him. i want to spend every waking moment with him. but when i look into the future, there are so many things that i want (a career in medicine, good friends, a husband, a happy home life, visible pectoral muscles...). i won't have any of it if i can't learn to balance things. i won't be healthy at the end of medical school if i can't learn to exercise regularly. i won't have good friends if i can't learn to prioritize them over my boyfriend now and then. i won't have a husband unless i get visible pectoral muscles....
"because it feels good" to be with d___ isn't enough of a reason to turn my back on the life i was building before i met him. i still have to be myself and work on myself every day, and just trust that d___ is going to be around for a long time. that he doesn't need the constant coaxing that my last boyfriend required. that if i take 90 minutes to eat dinner and shower before i go to his house, he won't meet me at the door with the sad look of a neglected pet.
i know that he's as committed to making this work as i am. and, as he said this weekend, "it's only going to get better."
usc update: i got one of my letters of recommendation. now i need to round up the other one so i can mail all this stuff off. i haven't heard from the former boss who's writing letter #2 since she got back from martha's vineyard. hopefully i didn't do anything to her house that she's pissed off about.
i was so good about working out this summer. i went 3-4 times a week for about six weeks. i was starting to see changes. i was feeling better about myself. i had more energy. i was sleeping better. i don't know what happened. it just slipped away from me. ever since my boyfriend and i got back together, i haven't been motivated to go. maybe lower self-esteem had been motivating me. now that i feel happier, ninety minutes at gold's just doesn't seem like time well spent.
i admit it (like i've admitted it before): i'm lazy. i'm not denying that. at my core, i'm a sedentary person. also, with great originality, i blame my schedule (work, therapy, social life).
yesterday the new boyfriend and i were IM'ing and he asked "are you going to the gym tonight?" i had my gym clothes in my car. i had put them in my trunk weeks before. i didn't want to have to answer his question, because i knew there was only one answer i could live with. there's no way i could say "no" and still feel good about myself. the guilt forced me to type "yes."
the gym is intimidating to me. i'm scared of just about every machine except for the treadmill. i always think people are judging me. i half-expect some gym stud to tap my shoulder and say "you realize you're doing that totally wrong." so i analyze the instructions on machines i've been on dozens of times before.
but i went. i went with the intention of running 3 miles on the treadmill. then i got into the locker room and went to the bathroom and told myself "i'm leaving. and when j___ or d___ asks me how the gym was i can say 'eh. it was okay.' and i won't be lying." then, with my brain walking out the door, my body went through the motions: getting undressed, putting on the running outfit my mom sent me, throwing my gym bag in a locker, and heading out onto the floor....
it wasn't so bad. i ran a mile. i did 20 minutes of work on my stomach and shoulders. just enough to get me over my nautiluphobia. i ran another mile on the treadmill. i left after 35 minutes. it's a crap workout. but it's a start.
in our IM conversation, my boyfriend and i had been talking about the possiblity that we may be spending too much time together. other things in our lives (like the gym) are being neglected. but moderation is not my forte. when i was a pothead i smoked 24/7. "because it feels good" was enough of a reason. the fact that my relationship with the canadian, my career and my self-esteen suffered couldn't stop me. it's the same with d___. i feel addicted.
i love him. i want to spend every waking moment with him. but when i look into the future, there are so many things that i want (a career in medicine, good friends, a husband, a happy home life, visible pectoral muscles...). i won't have any of it if i can't learn to balance things. i won't be healthy at the end of medical school if i can't learn to exercise regularly. i won't have good friends if i can't learn to prioritize them over my boyfriend now and then. i won't have a husband unless i get visible pectoral muscles....
"because it feels good" to be with d___ isn't enough of a reason to turn my back on the life i was building before i met him. i still have to be myself and work on myself every day, and just trust that d___ is going to be around for a long time. that he doesn't need the constant coaxing that my last boyfriend required. that if i take 90 minutes to eat dinner and shower before i go to his house, he won't meet me at the door with the sad look of a neglected pet.
i know that he's as committed to making this work as i am. and, as he said this weekend, "it's only going to get better."
usc update: i got one of my letters of recommendation. now i need to round up the other one so i can mail all this stuff off. i haven't heard from the former boss who's writing letter #2 since she got back from martha's vineyard. hopefully i didn't do anything to her house that she's pissed off about.
Labels: Drew, Fatness, Hollywood, Jana, Medical School, Postbacc Program, The Canadian
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