Happy 2009, Everyone!
Sigh (heavy, but happy). I'm glad this "vacation" is over because, while it was quite nice, it was also extremely, almost constantly busy. This, I realize, is a mundane way of stating the truth, but it's a testament to how tired I am that I don't even want to try to think of a more creative way to express it. I'm just relieved to be back to normal--however relative that term may be.
Anyway, I went to the gym yesterday. I'm a regular there, which is not nearly as virtuous as it sounds. It's a small place and I know most of the staff, so I chat as much as I workout. Nevertheless, I do make an appearance several times per week and believe in benefits of cardio--a belief which almost equals my belief in the benefits of smooth dark chocolate. Well, or milk/white/fruit-and-nut-filled/whatever-other-kind of chocolate...
But I digress.
The gym was, not surprisingly, packed. And I knew it would be. I see it happen every year and always end up making bets with the staff as to when we'll be back to our usual (low) capacity. (See? I told you I spend a lot of time talking.) We agreed the majority of non-regulars would fizzle out by Superbowl Sunday. And while part of me acted a bit smug about the whole thing, the rest of me was sad. I want these people to reach their fitness goals. I want to reach mine (which are really more dietary than exercise-based--I've got that elliptical down). But true change takes so much more than merely "wanting," doesn't it? True change, at least in my experience, involves tolerating the temporary discomfort of doing something differently until the new way can be given a shot at becoming routine.
So, how much do I really want to tolerate the discomfort of a not-yet habit? And for how long? That's what I've been asking myself all morning.