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Life seems to be one long string of attempts to get on track. I suppose there have been periods where I have stayed on track, but right now those feel distant and not frequent. The times I've been off track? So legion.

In other words, I went back to the gym this morning, with the intent that I should not stop going at any point unless it is a reason of impossibility and not merely inconvenience. (I now have to think through: is it impossible or inconvenient to figure out how to exercise before leaving for WorldCon on Friday? I do have to BE somewhere, after all, by a certain time, and it's more on the impossible side.)

I had been doing *some* exercise--a power walk here when running failed me, a stint in the garden there (and there, and there), painting the laundry room, cleaning the house--and I managed to bruise the crap out of my foot while standing on a ladder with no shoes while painting, so hey, adults, don't DO that (kids, I guess, can, 'cuz I used to... 25 years ago...).

But I was exercising half-assedly, and eating well half-assedly, since I got back from Wyoming, and that just can't keep flying. So. Saddle, I am in you.

The exciting news is, I timed my gym visit perfectly and had 10 minutes to soften my feet up in the whirlpool. Bruise aside, my feet have been tired for weeks, and a little hot bubble action worked wonders.

Comments

cathshaffer
Aug. 27th, 2012 06:56 pm (UTC)
I just had that same thought today, about constantly trying to get back on track. I wonder what it feels like to just BE on track. That must be either the awesomest thing ever, or direly boring.

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