When I counted out the days since my last proper workout where I put in 100% and finished feeling accomplished I was surprised and disappointed. And now I’m going to tell you about it.
For last few months I have been feeling off, I’ve been piling my plate SO high and as a result I’m very surely facing burnout dead in the eyes. I noticed that I wasn’t enjoying training anymore, it stopped being my favourite part of the day and became a chore, something I just didn’t want to do. So I stopped doing it. I told myself that it’s okay to have a break every now and again- that I don’t have to revolve my life around the gym. I told my self I wouldn’t be forcing myself into a session anymore, if I felt like working out I would, and I would be doing what I felt like doing. If I wanted a run, I would run. If I wanted a leg session, I would hit my legs. I was trying to tune into my body and actually listen to what it wanted- not just tell it what it was going to do.
Some weeks I do three sessions, some I do six- it’s all about what my body wants. Am I feeling sore? Have I got a headache? Would I prefer something slower like yoga or some may Pilates?
At first I felt guilty for not focusing myself into a six session per week schedule, not having a set split and sticking to it. I was disappointed in myself that I could feel my strength slipping, that I could see the muscle loss happening. Every Sunday I would say “tomorrow I’m back into it” and I would tell myself that from that day I was going to be the fittest version of myself again. It didn’t happen.
Lately I’ve had to focus on other things and slip in my workouts when I could. Has my mental health suffered because of it? Yep. I’m burnt out, I’m tired, I’m ready for bed 100% of the time. I was avoiding this blog because I knew that looking at it would make me feel even more guilty. But today I looked and I used it as a reminder, a reminder that moving my body genuinely does help my mental health. It leaves me feeling strong, accomplished, well.