Like everyone else... I lost a year. When I asked for a year of rest at the end of 2019, I didn't mean that quite so literally. I won't recount the trials of last year, but there was a lot of resting, and eating, and resting, and binging, and... I did get to the neighborhood pool during the summer, but that opened late and had a short season. With my asthma, the idea of exercising in the gym, when it reopened, with a mask was in no way appealing.
I've been thinking about going to the pool at gym, I wouldn't have to wear a mask, it's about a sterile of an exercise environment as you can get given the fact that you're swimming in chlorine, and it's easy on the joints. This morning I got the wild impulse to go. I spent an hour tearing apart the house trying to find the little 2" keyfob that is my gym card--which I haven't needed or used in over a year. Thanks to my husband remembering where it was stashed, I was able to register for a time slot. I put on my swimsuit, but didn't commit to go. I jumped in the car, since I was already dressed, at the last minute and was in the pool only four minutes late for my appointment. I had a 30 minute reservation, but since it wasn't busy, I stayed for an hour. I swam and walked and moved around. Then I hoped in the car, drove home, and felt nothing. No sense of accomplishment. Nothing. Maybe it will grow on me. None of it really matters much if the food doesn't change.
*HUGS* I've been doing pretty good with my exercise - even changing it up this past week with some interval training and yoga. But you hit the nail on the head... None of it really matters much if the food doesn't change. I did really well with food in January, but then I slip into old habits. *sigh*
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