It wasn't a perfect week

I missed a run last week. And a yoga session. Ah well. I ran 3 times (4 miles twice and a 5 mile run), did a fairly intense cardio session with all sorts of inclines and varying speeds on the treadmill (cardio attention-defecit disorder? "If I keep playing with these controls and only listen to 10 seconds of every song on my iPod, maybe I can will time to move faster..."), and went to an hour-long strength training class.

Alright I feel better now.  If I had stopped my report on what I had skipped out on last week, I would still feel like a fitness under-achiever. But by looking at the complete picture, it's decent. Not perfect. But then again, neither am I.

This reminds me that over the weekend, BF and I were hauling out trash and recycling and I wanted to dump some sketchy leftovers out before we closed up the bag. He held the bag open as I emptied out some black beans that were probably delicious in Q4 2009. As I repeatedly tapped the container against the side of the trash, he finally said, "Good enough, Virgo," and promptly tied the bag close before I could realize the satisfaction of getting that last little bean to surrender to its fate.

Yes, friends, apparently those born under my sign are known perceived to suffer from an obsession with perfection. Which is not the same as doing things perfectly, but often involves a general sense of disappointment and agonizing hours spent analyzing the gap between expectation and reality.

I like to think I am laid-back and easy-going. But when the spreadsheet says yoga and there is no yoga, then I have to edit the cell to read rest. Or abandon the spreadsheet altogether and no good can has come of that (in the past). So, yes, I owned and embraced the Rest Day(s). And I haven't turned into a giant Oreo. Yet.

I said when starting out (this time) that I really wanted to pursue a plan that I could see myself living on for the long-term. No quick fixes. No juice fasts. Even if that means a slower rate of loss. So I think I have to confront the fact that I am not always going to want to work out. Well, that's quite frequent, actually. But there will be times I will not be able to cajole, harass or otherwise motivate myself to workout. Then what? Or there will be times I'll really crave some pizza - not the healthified kind I make on whole-wheat baguettes, but the studio-apartment-sized NY slice served up on way too many corners near my home. Then what?

Then you deal. In the past, either of those instances would have lead to a whole new path of fitnesslessness and gooey foods. Why can't I instead say, "hey, sloth happens...that day off means you can really bang it out on your next run" or, "that pizza was delish...good thing you ate well the rest of the week so you could enjoy that"...or... anything positive. I want the idealized and real versions of myself to get to know each other better. I feel each could really learn from the other and together they could be an unstoppable force for good on this whole Fit Quest. 

(Self)Knowledge is power, I suppose.