I had no idea until this week that the second most commented on blog I have ever done was the one on working out. I do know endless people have come up to me and told me this really lit the fire under their sedentary butts and they have been doing something ever since; be it classes, spinning, strength training, biking, whatever turns them on. Because of that blog more and more people started working out. This truly thrills me. And I know it’s not always easy. It’s easy to make the commitment, it’s easy to start, but the real dedication comes from the doing it day after day after frigging day.

SOMETIMES YOU’VE GOT TO DO WHAT YOU DON’T WANT TO DO

Jul 30, 2010by tracey Comments

I had no idea until this week that the second most commented on blog I have ever done was the one on working out.

I do know endless people have come up to me and told me this really lit the fire under their sedentary butts and they have been doing something ever since; be it classes, spinning, strength training, biking, whatever turns them on. Because of that blog more and more people started working out. This truly thrills me. And  I know it’s not always easy. It’s easy to make the commitment, it’s easy to start, but the real dedication comes from the doing it day after day after frigging  day.

I am aware that sometimes I come off as sounding like “Aren’t I the bomb? I go to the gym six days a week.  Wow, I’m hot stuff – come on y’all, follow me.”   But trust me guys, there are days when I so don’t want to go I cannot tell you. And there are days when Lazy Tracey’s impulses win out over Disciplined Tracey’s routine.

Yesterday I had a situation where the two Traceys duked it out for several hours.

Lazy Tracey woke up and thought You know I don’t want to go workout this morning. I have one day to get the final copy edit in on my book. I  only get until three-thirty when I have to pick up Lucy at camp. I need the full morning to work.   Lazy Tracey not only didn’t want to work out but she had a full-fledged, legitimate excuse that could totally get her off the hook.

Vain Tracey put in an appearance as she had bought a cool new exercise top the day before and she wanted the gang at the gym to see it. Hey, I never said I couldn’t be fourteen at times.

Salva must have known I was wrestling with my inner Sybil as she made me an extra cappuccino and actually brought it to my room. I think she was saying get your gringo butt to the gym.

So Vain Tracey put on the top and Disciplined Tracey got in the car and headed for Bridgehampton and the eight o’clock class.

The first five minutes in the car Reluctant Tracey took over and started asking Why am I doing this? Guilty Tracey chimed in You need to be home working. Then Judgmental Tracey saw a carload of fat people head into the diner undoubtedly for a stack of hot cakes and some bacon and she thought how superior she was for going to the gym, despite her looming deadline and basic disinterest in spending the next hour doing push-ups, lifting weights and having Fred DeVito’s knee in her back from time to time telling her to straighten up.

The next quarter mile Smug Tracey took over the wheel as her mind kept returning to the fatsos who must be now smearing butter and pouring maple syrup over their double stack.

As she pulled into a parking place Reluctant Tracey looked up at the gym. The smugness had worn off and complete and total inertia took over.  Lazy Tracey was back in the car she did did not want to get out. Working out was the last thing on the planet she wanted to do.  Lazy Tracey sat in the car and literally stared up at the gym. It wasn’t too late; the ignition was still running she could be home and at her computer in six minutes. But then the wanting to stay in shape, do the right thing disciplined/afraid of being fat Tracey shut off the car and Frugal Tracey (a Tracey we don’ t see much of)  didn’t want to pay for a class she had booked and not show up. So, slowly, Conflicted Tracey made her way to the door of Exhale. As she was opening it, Vain Tracey came back and thought how cute her new LuLu Lemon purple top with the pale pink sports bra peeking out looked, the girls were sure to love it. It was in anticipation of that positive feedback that Vain Tracey made it up the two flights of stairs to the desk.

Well, Tracey made it, she arrived at class with all sides of her multiple personalities only to find out the eight o’clock class was not Core Fusion or Core Cardio, the classes she loves, but Core Sport, the only class she dislikes.

Now don’t judge this class like Tracey, many love it. But certainly, this gave all the Traceys an immediate out. She could sign in, so Frugal Tracey wouldn’t have to pay.  She looked around, her group was not there so Vain Tracey was not going to get any stars for her choice in exercise wear.  She had made the attempt, so Guilty Tracey could at least go through the day knowing she had gotten there.  And Tracey who does not miss a deadline could hightail it home and get her work done. But then there was Disciplined Tracey to deal with, a Tracey who knows she needs to work out a minimum of six days a week to really make a difference, there was Tracey who yaks endlessly and bugs all of you to go out there and work out and how could that Tracey just walk out?  But Tracey who hates Core Sport came back:  You so don’t want to take this class.

At that point Kelly who works at the gym said, “Tracey what weight ball do you want, six, eight or ten?”  You have to take the class with a ball that you do all sorts of things with. Tracey who was clearly staying but not putting her all into it quickly said,  “Six.”

So Disciplined/Couldn’t Think Fast Enough On Her Feet To Fet Out Of It Tracey took her six pound ball (which she spent much of the class ignoring) made her way to the center of the room and started to take class.

Crafty Tracey thought of coming up with an excuse as to why she had to leave early, looming deadline…good excuse, but at that point she was so busy heaving that damn six pound ball around and jumping back and forth and sideways she couldn’t talk, plus Practical Tracey was there and doing the work and hell, look at the clock only fifty-two minutes left.

Smug Tracey took over:  I’m here doing my workout, the fatsos are taking antacids as they leave the diner and I’m working my abs until – ouch. Shit, her shoulder, something pulled in her shoulder, it’s why Low Impact Loving Tracey does not like taking this class.  The pain started traveling and instantly who should appear but Hypochondriacal Tracey, who yelled Shooting pains down the arm and moving into the hand that stem from the upper neck could be the sign of a heart attack! Catastrophic Thinking Tracey envisioned herself being raced to South Hampton hospital mid heart attack. She would not only miss her deadline; she might end up dead. But Practical Tracey shut her up as she knows she has had every heart check under the sun and she has zero blockage in her arteries (if you want to read about it check out They’ve Looked At My Heart From All Sides Now). She knows the pains down her arm are from the muscles tightening in her neck and she just has to take a few deep breaths and work through it.

With just thirty-four minutes to go a combination of Smug and Lazy Tracey took the rest of the class. Tracey who feels sometimes just showing up is as much energy as she is going to put in finished it up and didn’t sneak out.

Self-congratulatory Tracey walked out holding hands with Vain Tracey as she still wanted someone to see her cute new top.

Starving Tracey went in to the Golden Pear thinking she deserved a reward for her half-assed work out. Though Calorie Counting Tracey stared at the apple cinnamon muffins and whispered they are not worth undoing whatever good work you might have done, and that the sugar just jacks you up and then in two hours  when you need energy you will crash. So Practical Tracey went home and had blueberries and yogurt.

The payoff really came at dinner last night, when Pasta Loving Tracey could pig out on linguine with tomato sauce knowing despite all her conflicting feelings she had worked out a full hour that morning and she was entitled to a reward, plus her metabolism was beefed up.

So the moral of the story is sometimes you’ve got to do what you don’t want to do.  And if you know how, lower the volume on the voices in your head that are leading you in the wrong direction.

Everyone does have voices in their head – right?