Exercise

I'm not going to lie, I've had a pretty stressful last couple of months. (See last post Failing)  And after a couple confessions, even an hour long talk with a priest friend of mine, they've all consistently mentioned one thing: exercise.

I mean, I do pushups and pullups here and there, but they're right, I haven't really been getting my cardio in with runs or actually going to the gym.  I mean, on weekdays at 8 p.m., sometimes 9 p.m. when I'm finally home from work and just finished dinner and relaxed for a little bit, am I really going to go out for a run?

I don't like running.  Mostly because I have such a high metabolism, running makes me skinnier than I already am.  I joke with people (and the truth isn't far from it) that I need to eat three hearty meals a day with snacks AND lift weights to maintain weight.  One run will throw a whole week at the gym out the door.  

So finally I went for a run.  And I went for another run.  And I went the weights at the gym the other day.  And again today with another run.

And each time I run, I feel the tension in my neck (though, still there) loosen just a little bit.  Each time I hit the gym, I release the anger (and endorphin) trapped inside of me, devil attacks in my head that don't really exist, and push myself with weights that I can only lift with sheer mental focus.

Oh my God, this has done me wonders this past week.  That and receiving affirmation at work (relieving a lot of my doubt that I'm a failure with my job), prayer, and love and affirmation from loved ones, family that I'm a keeper has well, done amazing things.

Since hitting the gym Tuesday night, I've been remarkably calm lately and in control of myself.

And I thank God for that.  And well, if I keep this up, I'm not looking (nor feeling) half bad either.

Amén.