My first week of training was a success. My second week was going well until I fell off the workout wagon on my long weekend run. I'd like to maintain that I did not fall off, that I was pushed off by some evil high school kids who are intent on causing drama that deters my wagon's straight path. This all sounds very cryptic. Let me explain.
Up until yesterday (which is when I took charge and took care of my situation), I felt like I've been in high school for the last 6 weeks or so. Within my close group of friends (most of whom I work with), there has been useless, catty, high school drama. Even my mother (Chuck look-a-like's wife) said to me, "What are you in high school again?" Mother knows best. That's exactly how it felt. And it has worn me down. I'm sick of people saying we "need to talk", people over-exaggerating stories, and the backstabbing. And unfortunately, rather than using my frustration to drive me to work out harder and get to the gym, it drives me into bed for extra sleeping and naps. So, I've been exhausted for a week and those dumb kids have knocked me off my wagon.
So, here I am, broken and bruised on the street watching my little red wagon (since that's the type I chose) roll down a slight decline without me. Now, it's rolling pretty slowly but kind of erratically because nobody is at the helm. Don't judge me, MY wagon does have a helm. So now I just need to get up, brush it off and move forward. I'm going to have to repeat Week 3 of my training since I've failed so miserably but at least I've given myself sufficient time to do so.
I just wish jumping back on a little moving wagon wasn't so hard.
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