Attempted to work out yesterday (after six months of on and off fitness stints coupled with binge nights of ice cream and potato chips) while defeating the bipolar haze/rain by skipping rope indoors with weights and sets. Barely ten minutes into the session, I wish I ran outside instead. I spent the next five minutes lying on the floor of my living room huffing for my life, wishing I never gave up usual workout routine half a year ago. I woke up with extremely bad muscle aches the morning after.
I’ve been extremely inactive at work sitting down eating packet after packet of wang wangs, while my colleagues indulge me by buying boxes of ice cream stored in our pantry fridge. My lemon slices have been sitting there for a week simply because I have been distracted by other goodies in the fridge to even snack healthily. I am a sloth. A living, breathing, heavily distracted, sloth. I cannot imagine not snacking. I cannot imagine going back to my heavily obsessed with counting calories lifestyle. I am happy with eating- If it didn’t take such a toil on my health.