I didn’t go swimming last night. I feel terrible. And as much as I don’t want to feel guilty/badly, I do.
It’s a busy time at work. I don’t stay late unless necessary. I’d rather be home with my family; the hubby and my little bears.
I felt compelled to finish a part of the project and get it out onto someone else’s desk. I was hoping to catch the 6:13 train. I pressed send on the email at 6:20. There was still time, I could catch the 6:43 if I take the subway. I grab my stuff and head on down to the office concourse level.
There is a man yelling. People are leaving the subway station en masse. Not a good sign.
“The subway is closed, no trains headed downtown,” the TTC guy calls out.
F*** I say to myself.
I call hubby and tell him that I've missed the 6:43 due to the subway and that I’m going to be on the 7:13. He asks if I’m going swimming. I tell him I’m unsure. I want to go, I’m feeling ok now, but that can change. It’s been a long day and practice starts at 9:30. No time to unwind, barely enough time to say goodnight to the older bear (if he is still awake), eat dinner and get my swim stuff ready.
I arrive home at 8 pm. My older bear is awake so I read him a story and enjoy our cuddle time. It’s 8:30 when I finally eat dinner. I have 45 minutes until I need to leave for the pool.
Bones comes on at 9 pm. I decide to go swimming, but arrive about fifteen minutes late. This means I have another 30 minutes. It’s the episode with the new brilliant teen intern with a southern accent and criminal record. His stepfather is missing and his body was never found. Did Finn murder his stepfather? I need to know. Of course in this day and age and a PVR, with the touch of the button, I can easily record the remainder of the show, but I don’t. Exhaustion fills my body.
I decide to stay home to be functional person today (Friday). Each week, I arrive home wired after my swim at approximately 11. Occasionally, I manage to get to bed as early as 11:30, but usually my head hits the pillow at 12:30 AM; a mere 4.5 hours to sleep until I get up the next morning.
This is the fourth workout in a row that I have missed due to another corporate deadline and Christmas events. Hubby doesn’t help when he points out that we paid a lot of money for me to go. I point out that I can attend makeup practices.
I’m not worried that I’ll never go again. But I feel like I let myself down and my coach down. I chose to laze about and watch TV rather than move my muscles. I decided to unwind rather than do some cardio. The funny part is, I love the Thursday night workouts: I love to the sets, I love the stiff muscles, I love my heart beating faster and my lungs expanding in my chest.
I'm good at banishing guilty feelings when it comes to eating, but not so much when I missed a scheduled workout.
It’s over, it’s done. I’m moving on.