I took a break from working out yesterday. It was a crazy day, long and lovely, with lots of work to be done both on the businesses and at home. My husband returned last night from a week-long trip overseas, and working out was the last thing on my To Do list.
My son even reminded me last night after we got home from the airport: “Mom, you forgot to work out today!”
Then today, my adorable, sweet, always-remembers-everything son, asked me: “Mom, are you going to work out today?”
And so I did.
And never again will I miss a day. Or, at least, not when I am starting a new program. The pain today? Far worse than the pain when I first started. My muscles were mad at me and they fought back hard.
I didn’t want to work out today. I wanted to eat one of the chocolate lava cakes I made to celebrate my husband’s return home. But instead I worked out. After I worked out, I no longer wanted a chocolate lava cake.
Damn you, Jillian Michaels. I liked wanting that chocolate lava cake.
But I do not like this pain and so tomorrow, I will work out. And the day after? Yeah. You get the picture. The damage, I am afraid, is already done, my friends. I’m on this fit & healthy flight and I think staying on for the direct connection versus little layovers is probably the only way to go for me.