Dangerous Curves Ahead

I went into today thinking that this would be my triumphant-return-to-Curves post.  It has been about 3 months since I have gone in to work out & at this point it is more a mental battle than a physical one that is keeping me away. 

• I feel stupid.
• Everyone is going to ask where I've been.
• I'm going to have to grapple with how much muscle I've lost.
• I'm going to have to face the music & be measured.

This week I psyched myself up to get my butt in gear.  My lungs haven't been cooperating with my running, but I was excited to get back to Curves. 

Curves was an instrumental part of my process in Year One.  The informal atmosphere & the highly structured program were exactly what I needed to take my first baby steps into exercising.  I was clueless as to what to do, but if I just went around the circle a few times I would work all of the major muscles groups & I would be moving, which was something.  Gradually, the inches started to melt & I had muscles I never would have dreamed of.  I wasn't killing myself, pumping iron, but I was definitely sculpting in a realistic way.

Somewhere along the way I stopped appreciating that.  I got seduced by the bang-for-your-buck calorie burn of running & cardio.  Now I'm noticing the effects as my skin isn't tightening like it was & I'm not dropping inches like I was.  This was supposed to be my morning to get back into the routine. 

Then I got a meager three hours of sleep last night & the wheels came off of my day before they even had a chance to get rolling.  I gave in to the excuse of being tired.  Then I ate a lunch that was too heavy & didn't want to visit Ursula on a full stomach.  Then I jumped into a bag of Pretzel M&M's because my day was forsaken. 

Instead of triumphantly heralding my return to Curves & weight training, I'm saying that I miss it, I need it, & I'm headed that direction on Monday.  I'm looking forward to adding weights back into my regular routine: caution, dangerous Curves ahead.