Grumptastic

Last Monday I was so grumpy and just down in a funk.  I didn’t want to do anything but maybe lay on the floor.  Possibly squeeze in a self-pity cry while wrapped in a comforter doing my best impression of a burrito.  It felt like I had a haze over my eyes.  I was a Grumpasaurus Rex.

It was also gym day.  So I shuffled myself into my gym clothes and headed in to see Mike.  Turns out it was also measurement day, yay?  I didn’t expect good things.  I ate with reckless abandon for two days and when I tried to make up for it ended up not feeling well.  Mike was gracious enough to offer waiting if I wanted to, he may have been trying to avoid another tear fest at the gym.  I figure ‘whatever’ that fried chicken is going to present itself now or later, let’s get on with it.

Pleasant surprise that I was continuing the positive trend!  The numbers moved in the direction that was desired or stayed the same.  I take this as solidifying the fact that I do not have to be a dietary saint 100% of the time.  Thank heavens because if that was the case I would never make any progress.

Despite hearing the good news my face was still settled into a barely neutral expression.  We moved from measurements to working out.  Mike was elated!  Various weights of kettlebells had arrived and are ready to abuse all gym goers.  Kettlebell swings with both hands, one hand.  So. Many. Swings.  Kettlebell deadlifts and suit case carries.  I was swearing and sweating and doing my best to complete my assignments.

At the end of our session despite feeling like my ass had been handed to me by the kettlebells I felt surprisingly better.  The haze that coated my eyes was gone.  My muscles had worked out the self-pity energy.  I had a tired smile on my face, smelled bad and was ready for my shower.
Lifting, sweating, and grumbling around the gym helped to burn off the grumpy attitude of unknown origin.  We just confirmed science people!

I know it’s super hard to get out and do things, anything, when you have boarded the pity train or the grumpy bus.  If you can just get yourself to dedicate to 30 sweat fest you will feel better.  And if you don’t, you can always curl up in a burrito of sadness after your shower.