I’ll be the first to admit it: there are days I don’t want to work out. And right now, those days feel more frequent. A bum shoulder has me operating at less than my usual capacity which, if I’m honest, often leads to a bum attitude to match.
On days like that, I’d much rather lounge at home like a silly kitty, doing absolutely nothing. And that’s usually when the spiral starts. What if I just didn’t go to the gym at all? If I leaned into that feeling every time it showed up, I know exactly where it would lead: I’d stop working out altogether.
And then what?
My eating habits aren’t perfect as it is, but I know without movement they’d slip even further. The small anchors that keep me grounded would loosen. My health wouldn’t fall apart overnight, but it wouldn’t take long for the quiet warning signs to show up. Less energy. More aches. A shorter fuse. Eventually, those small signals would turn into bigger setbacks.
This is why I show up anyway. Not because I feel motivated. Not because everything is operating at 100%. But because I know what happens when I don’t.
Taking care of my body, even imperfectly, is one of the ways I protect my ability to love well, serve well, and stay present for the people who matter most.
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