You probably don’t know that I was raised Catholic. In fact, my mom was a nun for 17 years before getting married and having kids. I went to Catholic schools my entire life, including college. I tried my best to remember everything I needed to get an A on every religion test and then I tried my best to forget it. Not to sound irreverent, but religion was horribly boring to me. To this day, I don’t practice my Catholicism – no longer because it bores me, I just haven’t found a place for organized religion in my heart.
As a result of 16 years of Catholic education I have this haunting and sometimes crushing confliction: Catholic guilt. I feel guilty about everything. I worry about hurting people’s feelings, making people feel bad, not validating them enough, saying no to the wrong things (invitations to events), saying yes to the wrong things (chocolate cake). I feel bad if I get mad at someone. I feel bad if I stay mad at someone. I feel bad for missing workouts. I feel bad not calling my mom often enough. I feel bad for not making dinner for my husband every night. This whole guilt thing can make me a little crazy.
Yesterday, I had a major guilt meltdown. I wasn’t going to share it with you, because we’re many of you are in your final two weeks of our FHM Transformation Contest. I don’t want to derail you or give you anything but positive vibes. But after thinking about it, I decided I needed to confess. I think this confession will help you. I think it will make you better. You’ll see by the end of my confession that this experience made me better. It served as a very powerful lesson to me. You may find it does the same for you.
I woke up tired yesterday. But I charged ahead and powered through my morning. I had a particularly busy morning of appointments, meetings, and clients. This delayed my regular workout time. By the time I arrived at my designated workout time (a couple hours later than normal) I was pooped. I just didn’t have it in me. So I left the gym and went home.
I immediately felt bad about this decision. But I told myself, “I’m too tired”. I told myself, “I’m 6 months pregnant, I can cut myself some slack.” I told myself, “I have a million other things I need to do with that workout time.”
I arrived home, still feeling exhausted. Additionally, I felt guilty. There it was – that damn Catholic guilt, haunting me. I didn’t stick to my workout plan. I didn’t do what I tell you to do every week. I let myself make excuses.
I spent the rest of the day feeling tired, lethargic, cranky and GUILTY.
A couple hours after my missed workout, I was so tired, I decided I needed some caffeine – something I’ve had very little of during my pregnancy. So I walked down the street to the store near our house and got a Diet Pepsi. I know. A freakin’ DIET PEPSI.
And a dark chocolate covered graham cracker.
Sure, go ahead and judge.
I was exhausted and cranky, so I drank some caffeine and ate some crap – telling myself the chocolate graham was better than the maple bar that I stood drooling over for a few minutes.
Most of you know me well enough to know that I pretty much think the soda industry is as corrupt as the tobacco industry.
Most of you know me well enough to know I think artificial sweeteners are the devil and I’m convinced they cause cancer, nevermind that I’m also pregnant while sipping these cancer bubbles.
Most of you know me well enough to know that if you told me you were tired, I would say a workout would energize you better and longer than caffeine or sugar.
So I spent the rest of the day feeling crappy, physically and mentally. I KNEW that had I just done my stinkin’ workout, I wouldn’t have had to deal with any of this. I would have felt better, I wouldn’t have had the soda or the chocolate and I wouldn’t have spent all day bummed out about my decisions.
Do you see now?
I’m just like you. I stumble every now and then. And I beat myself up when I do.
I am committed to only having good days and great days. So, yesterday, not a great day. But it was still a good day. It was good because I reminded myself that a missed workout never pays off. Exercise brings me energy more than soda, more than sugar. Exercise helps me make good decisions about what I put in my mouth and the thoughts I allow in my head.
Today I couldn’t wait to workout. I knew it would help me tell my brain to “SHUT UP” after all the chatter that killed my spirit yesterday.
And it worked.
I got in a great workout. I even gave myself a Penance Finisher (you can take the girl out of Catholic schools, but you can’t take Catholic schools out of the girl). I did this after my full body strength session. Here’s my Penance Finisher:
Step Burpees x 10
Wall Ball Squats x 10
Rest x :20
Repeat x 2
Step Burpees x 8
Wall Ball Squats x 18
Rest x :20
Repeat x 2
Step Burpees x 6
Wall Ball Squats x 6
Rest x :20
Repeat x 2
Step Burpees x 4
Wall Ball Squats x 4
Rest x :20
Repeat x 2
Step Burpees x 2
Wall Ball Squats x 2
Rest x :20
Repeat x 2
Do each set in quick succession – only :20 rest between sets. I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy or the Penance – but this kicked my butt. I have absolved myself of yesterday’s events. Today is a new day. It will ROCK.
Comments
Powered by Facebook Comments
