Excuses are like chocloate… I just want to wallow in them.

excuses

I don’t have a single good reason for not going to Crossfit this morning.

Sure, I have “reasons,” but really, they are nothing more than excuses I used to make myself feel better and justify myself to my husband who couldn’t care less.  Which begs the question, why do I do that?

Why not just say, “I want to sleep in this morning, I’m feeling lazy and will probably skip Crossfit today?”

Rather than come up with a million excuses?

Because really, when I realize that I WILL be able to make it to the 6:30 class tonight all of those excuses become null and void anyway.  My sore lower back and cranky hip suddenly don’t matter when I don’t have to get up at 5:30 a.m. to go.  My angry hormonal ovaries and desire to kill anyone who looks at me are completely irrelevant when it doesn’t require me to get up out of my warm bed first thing in the morning.

I think it would make more sense for me to just admit to myself, I WANT to go to Crossfit, but this morning I was just too lazy to do so.  Beating myself up about it is pointless, much like beating myself up about a brownie I ate this weekend is silly.

Dear Nicole, would it not be so much better to just acknowledge the action that we’re taking, take it, enjoy it, and then go on living?  Are there consequences?  Sure, sometimes.  But the worst of them should not be how much I beat myself up about it.

If the worst possible consequence was that I didn’t get to go to Crossfit today because I was an oaf who slept in, that’s bad enough.  There’s no need to be an oaf who slept in who then spends the morning berating herself for doing so.

Balance.  It’s all about balance.

Well, and sanity.  Which obviously, I’m still working on that particular goal.

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