Last Monday, I posted about treating myself gently. I tend to be very harsh with myself at times, and it’s a valuable thing to work on.
Today, I’m working on the equal and opposite problem of being far too gentle with myself. It’s also a process.
Yesterday, I had a sore throat. Today, it’s still a bit tender and I’m still not thinking super well. It’s probably the consumption that I diagnosed myself with. Probably. But it is just a sore throat. Today was another workout day, and I wanted to bail on it. My poor sore throat. Surely, I must rest.
People do triathalons with artificial limbs.
So what I’m saying: A sore throat isn’t really all that big an obstacle to completing a thirty-five minute dance workout.
I sucked it up, drank a ton of water, and Disco Danced until I couldn’t disco dance no more, dangit. I slid electrically, I did my disco finger thing when I was supposed to, and I inexpertly stumbled through a combination of moves that made me understand what it must feel like to work the 8am shift at a crappy strip club. I did it.
And yeah, my throat still hurt, but it didn’t hurt *more* for having worked out. In fact, I felt kinda proud of myself for getting off my ass and challenging my expectation that workouts can only be done when my physicality, feelings, and the stars align. The next time I have to work out the day that I have cramps or the morning after a few too many cocktails, it’ll be that much easier to just quit my bitching and fucking do it.
Now, for dinner.