Even though I’ve been a consistent exerciser my entire adult life, I don’t always want to do it. In fact, if I’m honest, 85% of the time I have to have supports in place to make sure I get it done. My most effective one is reminding myself how great I’ll feel when it’s checked off the list and my blood is pumping through my body. Sometimes it works. Other times it doesn’t.
My second most effective tactic is remembering how it will help my anxiety or depression or insomnia. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.
And then there are days when I have a real conversation with my body, and it tells me that it would much prefer a rest day. I know I will be more motivated another day, so I don’t talk back unless it’s been a series of days where my body has said no. During the lockdown I grappled a bit with my inertia on the sofa. But I knew I would always get back to it. That’s the thing about exercise. I can start over anytime.
This morning, my body said no. I’m having a second cup of almost decaf coffee, posting a short blog and perusing camp sites in Michigan. I also meditated and spent some quality time with my pets. For some reason this morning, Luna wants to sit in my basket staring at my meditation cushion. Maybe his body said he should rest, too.