Confession: I haven't worked out with any regularity in weeks. I've got so much going on between between my day job, my night job at the Y, trying to get some traction with my group ex career (which is my passion, I'm not gonna lie), all the housework and laundry that won't do itself (dammit), and being a single parent to my 15 year old a lot of the time because my honey is traveling for work most weeks, that it's left me tired and overwhelmed.
I'm getting ready for my barre workshop this weekend so I can hopely teach classes soon at this amaze-balls new studio and I've just been asked to teach 3 class ballet fusion classes (this is totally going to be a thing, just watch) through Minneapolis communtiy ed in the fall. Because I haven't been consistent in my workouts, I decided (at that amaze-balls studio owner's invitation) to take a couple of classes last weekend. My legs are still so sore that walking up and down stairs is taking a Herculian effort...and that was four days ago. I'm not deconditioned, it hasn't been that long since I was consistently working out, I just clearly don't push myself when left to my own devices.
The unexpected (and by that I mean totally expected because I've done it a million times before) and unpleasant (and by that I actually mean unpleasant) by product of my sparatic exercise is that I've gained about 7 pounds in the last month. Ok, it might have something to do with the fact that I'm eating like crap as well.
So I've confessed and I'm hoping this will at least spur me into eating healthier tomorrow and getting back into a routine with exercise next week, when I won't need super powers to take on a flight of stairs. Now, if I could only find more hours in the day to take care of work, other work, buding career, the house, the dog and the kid, I'd be golden.
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