1) Telling myself that working out is a GIFT I give myself (this has actually never really worked, but I keep telling myself anyway)
2) Telling myself that I can eat more of what I like if I run more (sometimes works, but mostly, doesn't. I eat what I want anyway).
And the most effective?
3) Going to the gym straight from work (I pack my workout clothes).
#3 means that I don't even get a chance to walk back into my inviting apartment where I see the movies I want to watch, or the book I want to read, or the craft project I've left halfway done (OK, 1/3 done). It means that I go straight to the gym.
Yesterday, I packed my little gym bag with every intention of working out. I was happy to do so, in fact. I have needed the pick me up, and the weather doesn't help that.
So, I walk into the gym, go to the women's dressing room to change, and find that I didn't pack my workout pants. I only have jeans. Uncomfortable ones. I had all the makings of a workout outfit except for the one key element that makes running, elipiticaling and biking possible (comfortable). What would I do?
Well, I'm glad you asked. I committed a fashion and gym faux pas all in one. Wearing my workout top and my running shoes, I ran and biked in my jeans. I also forgot to pack anything to keep my bangs out of my face, so I looked like a drowned rat when the sweat started to poor down my face and doused my fringe.
But guess what? I could have gone home and resigned myself to a session of Call of Duty: Black Ops Zombies with my brothers. I didn't though. I grunted it out.
And then it hit me....
I'm so glad I'm married. Because if I had not been married, my embarrassment that single, attractive men might find me less attractive would have crippled me and caused me to go home. I was that shallow and self-conscious at one point.
NO MORE. I am not above looking ridiculous to get my workout on. Which led me to another breakthrough:
Maybe I do like working out? Maybe my health has started to mean something to me? Maybe I enjoy getting my heart rate up? I had to enjoy it to not drive back home at the first signs of pantlessness.
Those jerks at the gym will just have to deal with it. I'm sure in their own circles they have tweeted or fbooked about it. So, bright side? I'm famous.