They love me, dammit

Posted: July 29, 2011 in CrossFit, Exercise, Fitness
Tags: ,

I have long maintained that one measure of love is the willingness to upset, annoy or anger the person you love when you think it is in their best interest.

By that measure, I am well loved.

The other night, I did not want to work out. Much like the character in “Green Eggs and Ham,” I did not like to, Sam-I-am.

I trudged to my room and slowly, grudgingly, put on my workout gear. I went  out to the garage/gym, where my husband was with my son and daughter-in-law. They had finished their workout, and were rolling. I was envious. And cranky (although you may have surmised that already).

“What do you want me to do today?” I asked my husband. As it was getting late, I hoped he’d say it was too late.

“What do you want to do?” he replied. (I had no idea he had an inner psychotherapist.)

“Nothing. I don’t want to work out,” I said, a tad belligerently. He simply looked at me. “I didn’t even want to dress out,” I added.

“It helps if your favorite clothes are your workout clothes,” chirped my daughter-in-law. I simply looked at her.

“Just do your usual,” said Gary.

“Starting with my walk?” I asked. He looked at me with a “well, d’uh” sort of look. Or at least, that’s how I chose to take it. Gary is the great stone face, so it’s easy to project what you want on his lack of expression.

I went back in the house because that’s where the treadmill lives. My daughter was trying to watch television, and I rather rudely, and definitely loudly, announced that I did not want to work out. She responded with something to the effect of “Is that right?” I was still looking for sympathy, or at least an excuse, but not successful yet.

I wanted to quit pretty much the whole time I was on the treadmill. By the time I got off, my son and daughter-in-law had come in.

“I think I’m going to quit,” I said to the assembled family. They were not supportive of that decision.

Instead, they chimed:

“C’mon, you can do it.” “You’ve already done this much.” “Don’t be a quitter.” “Think of your blog.”

I grinched at them and left for the garage, where Gary was setting up my equipment. I tried again:

“I don’t want to work out. I had a hard time getting through the walk.”

My whining got no respect. Imagine. So I tried my last excuse.

“I want to work out in the morning; do you think if I work out now there will be enough recovery time?”

Gary didn’t blink an eye. “That won’t be a problem.” Curses. Foiled again.

So I ground through the workout. Yes, I was glad I did it. Yes, positive peer pressure works. But I was still cranky. It doesn’t inevitably lead to a better mood, apparently.

Why do they love me enough to rag on me and make me go workout when I don’t wanna? Search me. But I am grateful for it.

Even if I do act like a spoiled brat sometimes.

Post scriptum: It’s a little step for most, but a big ol’ milestone for me: Today my chest actually made contact with the ground during my knee push-up.  Go, me!

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