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.
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