Today I broke down. When I woke up this morning it wasn’t good. I was neither confident nor motivated in the way of working out. The boys had gotten up way too early and I hadn’t slept well anyway. I made them breakfast made my coffee and drew in my bullet journal. About an hour later I made my hubby breakfast and got dressed to work out. The night before I asked handsome ( that’s my nickname for the hubs) if he could help me on my burpees technique. “I’m pretty sure I’m doing it wrong” I said “and I need you to help.” He’s being in football I was confident that he would know what I was doing wrong. So I went out on the patio, water bottle full and head phones on pretending I was ready. And did my warm up while he ate. It takes me on a typical day about 5-7 min to do my warmup. When I was done I told him and he came out side picked a place on the grass and said “are you ready” I shook my head yes but I didn’t feel ready. But I got set and started to show him my technique which was in deed wrong. I was going too slow on the down.
A Burpee is just another name for up downs or sprawls. The object is to thrust yourself in to a push up position and make your chest and upper thighs hit the ground making a “puh….” sound. Or a burp sound. Hence the name burpee. Anyway we practiced a few minutes then I started my workout. I did it the way he had demonstrated and actually cut time.
The moment I broke down was at the end of my work out about 30 min later. I had pushed myself so hard, I cut my personal best time by 4 minutes. My shins hurt, my abs, hurt and my side was cramping from using the wrong breathing technique during the exercises. It’s at these moments I ask myself “why are you doing this? Why put yourself through this bullshit? Is it worth it?” I laid on the ground under the air conditioner vent in the camper cooling of and focusing on my breathing. It was too hard, too shallow and I was on the verge of hyperventilation. My boys were asking “why are you crying mommy?” They must have asked 10 times. I couldn’t answer I could barely breathe. Then, I sat up and smiled at them and said “cause I killed my workout!” They cheered for me then and made me feel better. I took a cold shower, calmed down a bit and weighed. The number on the scale doesn’t matter I know this. I know it’s how you feel. But you know what when I saw that number on the scale and felt the immense pride wash over me, I again was reminded of why I was pushing so hard. I do this for me, my boys and a better attitude. Pain is short and fleeting but pride and love for yourself is forever. Don’t quit. No excuses. It’s hard now, someday it won’t be. At least that’s what I’m working toward. That and a tight sexy body I can wear cute outfits on. 🙂