ah, the punching bag, blowing in the cool Southern California wind, swaying over the muddy dog-dug lawn, taunting me with the old dusty footprints of workouts past...
i am curled up inside myself, finding every excuse possible as to why i cannot exercise right now. it's too windy for the bag, i say. i can't go to the gym after alex gets home because when will i eat? and i can't wake up early because, for the love of all that is holy, it is december and it just feels wrong.
that was wrong. that felt wrong.
i'm all wrapped up with my heavy thoughts these days, wondering about wondering kind of stuff. i need to get my blood tested. i need to find a way to help find energy and stamina again. i need to work out, or at least do a few planks a day. is that so hard, holly? this is what i say to myself. why can't you just pick up the weights while you are on the couch watching "the wire"?
and why can't you find the time to wake up a half hour early just to sit with yourself and meditate, goddamnit. you know it's one of the best things for you. that and yoga. and you should go to yoga again, and find a way to pay for it. stop buying books at the thrift store and pay for a class or two.
what is wrong with you, woman?
there's also the side of me that is begging to give myself a wee break; that it's winter, and in winter, i am fine-tuned to nestling all snug in my bed. i am the eater of potatoes and stews and hot buttered bread. i am the baker of sweet things and the wisher of silence and swaddling. i wear two pairs of socks, keep my heat at 59, and demand a huge pile of blankets. i feel the need for a den. i live by the sun, and the lack thereof. isn't this what is supposed to happen to me during this season? aren't i supposed to feel this way?
i know it's technically still autumn, but go with me on this one.
there's nothing wrong with me. there's nothing wrong with me. there's nothing wrong with me.
the thing is, just changing clothes at this time of year is painful. who wants to be naked for a few seconds when you live in a house with no insulation, when the night before has hit the 30s (yes, in LA) and the chill is still within the walls of your home? who wants that? it sounds really devastating to get off this couch right now, remove my cozy boots and fingerless gloves and knitted hat and two layers of shirts and warm jeans and comfortable bra and put on the inevitably freezing cold sports bra, tiny socks, workout pants and old cold t-shirt. who wants to do that?
a crazy person, that's who. i mean, come on, cold bras in the winter suck.
plus i have a warm, large dog who insists on sitting almost on top of me. how can i ruin her cozy time? i am providing her with much-needed body warmth. this is what any dog-lover would do.
so this is my rationalization, yes, i know it, yes, it's true, but i can't deny it to myself today. i'm without inclination or motivation. and yes, i know that if i overcame those things and got my ass out there i would feel better, would feel that i somehow deserve the homemade blondie in the other room, and then be fine eating tortilla chips while i make chili for dinner, and then pat myself on the back for the huge hunks of bread with butter on them that i inhale with the soup.
fuck that.
i deserve all of those things anyway. i am a bear about to welcome winter, and i need to fortify my heart, body and soul for the months ahead.
ah december, what you do to me. i love you so much. you are my favorite. thanks for making sure i was born within you, so that i can be deeply attached to you forever.
(as i was writing this, this became a two-dog couch, so there i am now officially locked-in for good this evening. time for my jammies.)
