Well, my running has hit a bit of a road block this month. I have done little in the last few weeks; partly because of frustration at my pathetic pace, partly because it is cold outside (and so also really cold in the house in the morning and I just can’t bear to poke my toes out of bed unless I know I am stepping into a warm shower) and partly because we had Spring break.
Whenever I go on vacation (wondering, right now, if I am the only one with such ambition) I always have dreams before-hand of getting up early and hitting the gym. I vision myself down in the workout room sweating away before the family has risen. I can feel the satisfaction of bringing my hubby a coffee on my way back to our room, still glistening from a good workout. Then sitting quietly and chatting for a bit, reading the paper before the kiddies are conscious. So, I pack my gear, my shoes and yoga pants. I may even scope out the gym when we first arrive, so I know where it is and what it has to offer.
But – then, in reality. I never make to the hotel gym. Late nights, sometimes bad sleeps, too much wine the evening before, I sleep in and then lounge around for an hour or so before we decide what to do with our day and get dressed. We are on vacation after all and so a break from all forms of drudgery is allowed, maybe even demanded.
I suppose I am typical. Which is probably why the hotel gym has 1 or 2 treadmills and maybe a stationary bike and probably sees very little action.
I however want to be one of “those” people who craves the run, the sweat and the work of fitness. I want to be that one crazy women at the hotel gym at 6:30 am. I want to be able to say, look what I did today before you even thought about getting out of bed to pee.