when you feel like quitting, remember why you started.

So happy this week is wrapping up because that means I get to go to Houston!  It’s my alma maters big alumni celebration, so I get to see everyone I went to school with and hangout for a jam packed weekend.  But first, I’m going to recap the past couple of days workout wise.

Wednesday I experienced my usual lethargy and general not wanting to workout-ness.  I was really struggling to motivate myself since this week had been particularly difficult with the BBG and I was soreeeee.  I was stumbling through instagram and one of the girls I follow had a post that read “having to vs. getting to” and highlighting her lack of motivation to go on a run that day until she remembered that she even had that option.  This fueled me.  I think we all take for granted what our bodies can do.  I am lucky enough to have two functioning legs, a good heart, and the ability to run a couple of miles every now and then.  I would say that having this luxury is something that a small minority of the world’s population can afford themselves.  Because of this, I think those that have the ability to better their physical fitness should take full advantage and remember that they are so lucky to even have the option of bettering themselves this way.

Another quote I came across this week was the one below.

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I remember exactly when I started.  When I was about 14 or 15, my mom decided to take a hiatus from work and focus on my brother and I and helping ease our transition in to high school.  To use her time in a positive way and better herself, she threw herself in to fitness and I was so inspired.  I would ask her all the time if I could come with her on the weekend to join her workouts and she always happily obliged.  I was horrible at it and didn’t know what I was doing at all.  And to top it all off, I never wanted to get sweaty, so clearly things were going well.  I tagged along to her workouts, but never really started doing anything seriously.

The summer after my junior year of high school, I went to summer camp at a local college nearby to focus on my voice and see if this was something I wanted to further pursue.  While I gained a lot of knowledge in the music arena, I also gained a lot of weight from the unlimited buffet style meals we had.  When I say a lot, I don’t necessarily mean more than 10 or 15 pounds, but it was a noticeable difference to me and at the end of the summer, I just didn’t feel like myself.  I figured when I got back to my normal routine, everything would straighten itself out.

But it didn’t.  My senior year began just a few weeks after I got back and I was quickly inundated with stress from all different angles; college essays, speech team, drama, life etc.  I was looking forward to the one sweet relief that was going to occur in the first semester of my senior year.  The homecoming dance.  I had picked out a dress for the event last spring.  It had been on sale and was this silver dress with a really interesting pattern and it just spoke to me.  I was so excited to wear it with all of my friends and couldn’t wait to get compliments since it was so unique and it had looked so good.  The week before the dance, I tried the dress on just to see what kind of shoes I should wear with it, but, to my dismay, it didn’t fit anymore.  I burst in to tears.  I had no back up plan and the dance was a couple days a way and I just couldn’t help thinking that it was my fault that I couldn’t fit in to this dress and honestly I was just a mess.  My parents were amazingly supportive through this.  My mom assured me I would be wearing that dress again in no time and vowed to help me actually start working out and my father ran me to the store to buy a new dress.  I promised myself that I would take my fitness more seriously and fit in to that silver dress by the end of the year.  And I did.

College came that next year and, while I worked out at least 4 days a week, I still managed to put on some weight and lose some muscle.  When I got home the summer after my freshmen year, I felt that same uncomfortableness I had felt after my time at camp.  I wasn’t myself.  I reevaluated and hit the gym hard that summer until I started feeling more comfortable with myself and actually proud of the things I was doing and choices I was making.  It’s been a long journey thus far and it’s still changing everyday, but I will never forget those times when I have felt off.  It’s that feeling that sticks with me every time I go to the gym and I remember why I do what I do.

-sj

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