I’ve never even done regular Zumba, so what made me think I would be prepared for a water version in the middle of my second week at what is already the busiest, most exhausting job I’ve ever had, I don’t know.
Walking down the stairs to leave work, I decided I wouldn’t go. I was too tired. I was coming down with a cold. I needed to respect my body’s wishes and just go home and relax.
But then I realized that if I started down this slope, the steep one of only doing things when I felt like doing them, there was a very good chance I would never encounter a chairlift back up. If my job continues to drain all of my energy in 9 and 10-hour days, when will I ever feel like putting on a swimsuit and jumping around in a pool with old ladies?
For that matter, when will I feel like skipping pasta for grilled chicken? Going to work at all? Flossing?
I’ve lived most of my life concerned about canceling on friends or not living up to obligations, and luckily I’m finally at a stage where I’m trying not to care so much. If I don’t want to do something for someone, I shouldn’t do it just because I think I should.
It’s not the same when it’s something for myself. That’s one place where, I believe, we really should feel obligated. If you’re exhausted and need one day off of an exercise routine, yes–listen to your body. If leaving your apartment to go to a lecture you signed up for makes you miserable, okay–listen to your mind.
But if you excuse being lazy for listening to your needs, you’re on that slope.
And while I felt tired, and tired, and sleepy, and tired, I knew I’d feel better after trying out a fairly ridiculous class meant for senior citizens. (See, they trick you with the name; it’s water aerobics.)
I was right…well, mostly. My mind felt good. My body was a little tougher to convince, considering my exercise ability since being diagnosed with the rare condition that makes me unable to run has been hovering close to nonexistent. But it was also too tired to argue much.