Yep. I have never really worked out a day in my life. I mean, I did the gym weights and cardio on a treadmill. But if you told me to do a push up, pull up, or run .. my answer was always a flat no. If I were a cooked meal, I would be prepared as veal.
My house could be on fire and my cats could be screaming at me from the outside, and I would just say cooly, “Oh, I never rush.”
They would begin to scream and call me names. But rest assured, let me just say this is first article to announce.
I did push ups.
Hell, I did 20. Yes they were “girl push ups” and they were mostly in sets of 5 and I would roll off the exercise ball. But I did it!
Holy hell, I felt warm. I was hot. The incinerator inside of me probably started for the first time in maybe a year. I could be embarrassed that I felt heat and pain after my third one, but I’m deciding to feel accomplished.
I have a history of spooking myself out for not being the ending result I want to be, overexerting myself, and absolutely crashing. What’s about to be my 24th year, self love will be hand in hand with self care this time.
Discouraged perfectionists need to remember to trust the process and enjoy surfing the ride.
I’m thankful to have Noelle, not only because she’s a personal trainer but because she won’t let me be mean to myself. And now that I have her this time around. For once, I am enthusiastic about the journey of no longer neglecting my body.