Too Much Rest = Exhaustion

It’s a funny thing, and something that’s so easy to forget, no matter how many times I explicitly remind myself… getting up and exerting myself, even if it’s just to do some chores, calisthenics, and Pokemon Go? Gives me so much energy.

Definitely counterintuitive because your body lies to you. “Siiiiit,” it whispers. “You’re so tired. Netflix and chill. Oh, and throw in some of those newfangled potato chips where they mysteriously incorporate an entire meal into it.” Tikka Masala Lay’s, Chicken Taco Pringles, and Szechuan Chicken Lay’s, I am looking right the fuck at you. And those damn Wasabi Ginger ones. Thigh-expanding black magic, I tell you.

Anyway, it’s all lies. Resting is making you depressed, more tired. You need to run like hell when you’re exhausted.

I’d been halfheartedly limping towards healthier choices the last few weeks, set back by a minor foot injury, grief, a bout of tonsillitis. But now I’m healthy again and out of excuses and my husband has a fire lit under his ass that’s spread to me.  It’s time make upgrades to the house and get in better shape. We’re doing this.

This morning I’m a bit sore, like I’ve had the shit kicked out of me but in a good way. Time to ration and challenge myself again. I should be dreading this, but I’ve caught a wave of good endorphins, and I’m smiling.

And not just because I’m a masochist.

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