I loathe exercise. Have I mentioned it before? Well I do, always have. The very idea of it makes me cringe & maintaining a routine when I do occasionally get myself moving is a massive effort for me. Honestly, I feel exhausted just at the thought of words like ‘cardio’ & ‘strength training’. Oh & just watch me roll my eyes at the mere mention of ‘endorphin rush’. Exercise hurts, it make me go all beetroot red, sweat, smell & jiggle in all the wrong places. Then by the time it is over, I feel like vomiting & passing out.
Nothing about that makes me feel energised & enthusiastic to do it over & over again. Quite the opposite in fact – it just convinces me that I want to sit back down & eat more ice cream. Now there’s an activity I can (& too often do) truly get excited about!
So I ask myself, for about the thousandth time in the last few days, why have I just signed myself up to go to the frickin’ gym!?!?!?!
(Image Source) (Holy heck … I thought contraptions like these were only found in a gyno’s office or labour ward!!)