This morning I did not want to get out of bed. At all. My muscles still ached from Friday’s workout (burpees + jump squats = straight, unadulterated death). Then Saturday's (fucking awesome and life changing) woman’s march and Sundays tsq outing mean my legs are bags of jelly barely attached to my bones. everything in me said *to be read in a seductive Kelsey Grammar voice* ‘No Karen. Stay in bed. This warm comfortable cocoon of compliance... you’ve earned it.”
I had to remind myself that working out is not a punishment. Working out is a privilege. My body can still put up with a serious workout and that is a blessing. When I work out, I am loving myself. It’s tough love for sure and there are days (like today) that i fucking hate it. But I deserve it. I want to love myself enough each day to get up and do something good for it.
Tomorrow, however, I am hella sleeping in. Cause I deserve that too.