Fun fact: I am a huge Avengers fan. So when I title a post “Put on the suit,” there’s really no excuse for me NOT to include this photo:
But this post isn’t necessarily about superheroes. Well it sort of is. But anyway, on with it.
So it’s been a crazy week. (“What else is new, Steph?” you ask.) The school play is tomorrow night so we’ve been running to dress rehearsals, and preparing for shows tonight and Saturday night. But before we GET to Saturday night, we also have a big children’s event at church on Saturday morning, followed by lacrosse practice, then my son’s birthday party on Sunday.
Not to mention the fact that I have family members arriving tonight at 6pm to go over to the school with us to see the play, and the house is a mess and I have no conceivable time between now and 6pm when I could actually clean it. Well, I guess I could be doing it now but I’m pretty sure my husband and kids wouldn’t appreciate my running the vacuum at 5:03am. So yeah, dirty house + impending company=more stress.
My blood pressure just rose writing those two paragraphs.
But in the midst of this week, I had a very cool epiphany on Tuesday.
Tuesday was a kind of “meh” day. After a school delay because of MORE WINTER WEATHER (I can’t even talk about it) I worked from home for most of the day. I also had to miss my date with the iron at 6am because of the aforementioned weather.
I had a ton of work to do but couldn’t seem to get focused.
I tried to focus on cleaning up around the house but still felt so “off.” So I told myself I was too busy (not) working to clean.
I accomplished very little that day except eating a bunch of crap that was in my house for no good reason. You know, just because it was there and I couldn’t put my finger on why I was so stressed and unproductive. So obviously, eating some shitty food was the right answer.
General malaise ensued. More food was eaten. I figured it was a wasted day and got on with it.
Then I decided to stop being an asshole and signed myself up for the 7pm class to do the ole “kid switcheroo” as my husband came out of the 6pm class.
At 6:20, I (rather reluctantly, in full disclosure) went upstairs to get ready for my 7pm tabata workout.
Again, full disclosure, I tried to think of some excuses that would make it okay for me not to go.
And then it happened.
I pulled on my sports bra and workout gear, and I immediately felt better.
I know that sounds ridiculous, but it was somehow true. As soon as I was in those black pants with my sweet ass blue training sneaks on, I felt like myself again.
The bad day was left behind. The crappy food. The sense of general wrongness.
I was ready to go kick some ass. (And I did.)
For me on Tuesday, those workout clothes were my equivalent of Ironman putting on the suit.
So what’s your suit? Put it on, and kick some ass.
***update: At 7am, I managed to clean up my house a touch, with the help of a handsome husband. I wouldn’t call it “clean and pretty,” but at least it is “vaguely presentable.”***