It’s been two years that I’ve been writing this blog. Honestly, I thought the novelty would have worn off by now, but it’s become an extension of me. It’s almost like having a kid..the kid comes along and you can hardly remember what your life was like before.
I’m sticking to the seven deadly sins theme. This next one has been a big one for me as of late.
Bless me readers, for I have sinned. My last weight lifting session was more than 5 days ago.
At the beginning of the Summer I was KICKING ASS. I could hold a wall sit for a count of 700. Sure, not a real 700 seconds, it was as fast as I could count to 700…but still. I was proud as fuck of that.
I was doing sets of 125 squats.
I was FINALLY getting away from the wussy girl push ups and doing big girl push ups.
Now? Yeah..wussy girl pushups it is. and FUCK doing 125 squats.
Which is what happens when you embrace sloth as your own personal religion.
I let stress derail me. Again. I have NO idea why I keep doing this. Why I keep putting myself in the position of starting over.
Then I remind myself of this: starting over is INFINITELY better than giving up. Giving up isn’t an option. I don’t care if I fall on my ass a thousand more times. As long as I keep getting up. That is what matters.
Sloth is such an easy sin to sink into. Sloth has cozy faux mink arms. Sloth curls up with you and watches TV. Sloth rubs your shoulders while you read books and play games on your phone. Sloth is the cuddly deadly sin.
Sloth also makes you tired and listless. Sloth makes it so you have to go back to the goddamn fat girl store to buy jeans. Sloth, combined with gluttony, can undo all your hard work in no time.
I would LOVE to talk more about sloth..but I have to watch the latest Sons Of Anarchy episode.