So it occurred to me as I was dragging my knackered old body around the office this morning that I may just have overdone it a bit yesterday. I know people tell you to listen to your body, but to be fair, when you’ve got an Asshole voice that lives inside your head and has a PhD in giving you a bum steer, sometimes that’s not as easy as it sounds.
Yesterday was a tough day in a lot of respects, I was supporting someone important to me through a crap situation and as well as being emotionally quite draining there was a lot of sitting about, on chairs which probably weren’t designed with comfort as their primary consideration. So when I finally got home at the end of the day I was tired, and my back was really sore. I’d eaten barely anything all day and my energy was low.
All I wanted to do was to collapse in the armchair, have something to eat and go to bed, but I hit the override button on every reason why that was the right thing to do by insisting to myself that despite my crappy day, I still had to put in three miles of walking before I could allow myself to relax. Cut myself some slack? No chance.
Off I went. Pitch black outside, and raining but whatever…no excuses, I’m on a schedule. There’s a mountain in Cuba with my name all over it, and I’m on one…got to get fit. No slacking allowed. By the time I got back, my back was screaming at me, my dodgy knee was making it’s presence felt and I had a banging headache to boot. Even the dog looked pissed off, since all he wanted to do was curl up on my knee and have his tummy tickled.
So, I ate supper and went directly to bed afterwards, right? No of course I didn’t…I said I would do ten minutes on the hurt machine every morning and every night. Cut myself some slack? No, and don’t ask again…we don’t accept excuses any more, that’s the old Dee. I finally went to sleep feeling sore but hardcore, you know? And not a little bit smug…look at me, bringing it home even after the day I’ve had.
So this morning, walking was painful. Crossing the office was painful. Getting out of my chair was painful. The ten minutes I spent on the cross-trainer this morning passed by in a blur of ouches, and the two miles walk down to the shop and back that I’d planned at lunchtime to try and incorporate some exercise into my day looked more unappealing than I can tell you. But I did it anyway, because I’m on a schedule.
I loped into the house tonight like someone who’d just graduated from the ministry of silly walks. I can’t place my left foot down too hard on the floor because the gremlin in my knee with the razor blade stabs me if I do. I can’t fully stand up straight because my back’s too sore, and if I lift my right leg too high, I squeal.
The thought occurred to me as I was getting out of the car that I was a mile short of my daily walking target and I should do a quick march up the hill and back to make up the deficit…finally, and not before time, the voice of reason stepped in. And I now get it.
There’s a difference between an excuse and a reason. Pushing yourself through a stiff muscle and building on established momentum is fine. Being too bull-headed to flex the schedule because you’re afraid saying no makes you a slacker is not fine.
Tonight I’m going to cut myself some slack…I’m not walking the extra mile. I didn’t miss it out, I just didn’t do it yet. I’ll tack it onto a day where not everything hurts, and perhaps tomorrow I won’t be walking like a weirdo. I’m learning as I go along, and today I learned to listen to a different voice…they don’t all give Asshole advice.
Can’t slack for long though…today I got the confirmation I’ve been hoping for – I’m on the trek…I’m going to Cuba…WHOOP WHOOP!!!!
