12 : the (dreaded) workout

i KNOW you know the feeling . . . lethargic, exhausted, altogether blah-to-the-extreme. there is NO way, not way in a million bazillion years that you are going to get your lazy butt to the smelly, mean, out-to-get-you gym. you are going to turn a blind eye to the fact that you have been on a roll lately and you are definitely going to ignore that devil (angel) on your shoulder who has been pestering you to tie up your sneakers and drag yourself off of the comfy, deliciously snuggly couch. you simply will not budge to the point of an almost toddler-style tantrum of refusal.

but then. in a wave of something close to divine intervention, the rubber band ball of guilt, inspiration, desperation, energy, stubborn-as-an-ass-ness rolls itself together and bounces you off the couch. you jump into your workout clothes in record time, hoping like crazy that you don't lose this little spark of motivation before it goes away as quickly as it came. you get to the gym and once you're down there, you realize that you completely don't remember the process of getting there - you've been so focused on clasping tight to your inspiration that you've auto-piloted yourself onto the treadmill.

however many minutes later, you've had one of the best workouts to date - you have outsmarted mr. lethargy and mrs. blah, and have kicked that workout's bum. YEAH! now, time to shower.