Saturday starts my first Derby Lite class.
It’s hard to articulate what this symbolizes for me lately. Maybe it’s this time of year, maybe it’s having spent the past three months stagnant in a boot, but ugh. Really, just ugh. My mojo from last year is all but gone. There it is. Gone.
I plan my meals, sorta. I weigh, measure and portion out my meals, sorta. I work out, sorta. I take my vitamins and drink my Green Monsters, sorta. I drink my daily allotment of water, sorta. I get enough sleep, sorta.
Living in a state of half-assed sucks.
Like I said the other day, I’m determined to get rid of the rest of this weight, but it’s feeling like an uphill battle of gargantuan proportions, in a way it didn’t when I was staring down way more weight to lose. I’m at this moment where my inability to do it all, wholesale, seems to keep me from sticking to any small change. I have too many moments of not eating enough and too many moments of eating a lion’s share of pizza. Or fudge.
How is it that I’m unable to forgo a stupid cookie?
I’m doing that thing where I’m overly concerned with making sure I have the right foods stocked in our frig and pantry, and then don’t do much about them. I’m back in the gym, but it all feels very pedestrian – I did strap the heart-rate monitor back on to keep myself honest.
The motivation is not there. Something needs to change.
So derby. It’s not a cure-all, but it’s something different to do. A new goal. We also have a real, bona fide CrossFit space opened up in my neighborhood now, right around the corner from my house. I’m just a couple of weeks away from running again. I’m considering hiring a personal trainer, just once a week. Just something to get me back on track.
Sometimes the easiness of this hard battle is dumbfounding. Other times it’s just demoralizing. Hopefully the upswing shows itself soon. Maybe it’ll come whooshing in on roller skates.
