Monday, June 03, 2013
I went for a ride Saturday. I'd hoped for about 45 miles; I decided to ride just 29. I had a hard time pushing myself out the door, but I knew that once I started riding, I'd be happy I did. And I was right. Once on the ride, I lowered my expectations for a couple of reasons. I'd been riding my mountain bike to & from work, and my legs were kind of weary. I knew there was a lot of housework to do once I returned home. (The Hubs was tackling the yard work.) I'm sure I could have ridden the 45 miles I'd planned on, but it would have left my legs weary and my motivation to do housework completely sapped.
I went for a walk this morning, as well as one at lunch. The lunch walk was longer than my usual lunch walks. It's a lovely day outside, and I don't have court this afternoon. I'm looking forward to my ride home this afternoon (even though I'll be riding in my running shoes because I left my bike shoes at home).
I'm sure my weak motivation is due to my upcoming surgery. I haven't thrown in the towel, though. I haven't gained any weight, and my diet is still pretty good. I don't have a strong desire to sit on the futon and watching "Hoarders" all day long; I'm just having a hard time caring about working out.
On the plus side, I know this will pass. It could be a lot worse - I'm fighting against a blasť attitude, not recovering from a catastrophic injury. I just need to figure out what buttons to push to get back into gear.