This morning, I woke with a headache, which soon turned into a blinding migraine that hurt even in my teeth. But still, I made it to the gym. For the past month, I have worked out every day, and I wasn't about to let a migraine break my streak. I am the Cal Ripken Jr. of my garage treadmill.
I've belonged to a gym for years, and I attended regularly, but when I started with a personal training in October, I found out that a water workout does not build the strength to lift in the workout room. This moved me out of the water and upstairs, to the giant room with all the machines and sweaty people. I'm pretty pleased with the amount of strength I've built up in the past few months. You may not know it to look at me, but I am strong enough to kill you, which was my goal. My goal wasn't to kill you, per se, but to be ready for the zombie apocalypse that Rocket promises is coming. And I'm feeling pretty ready.
I'd been kicking around the idea of a treadmill, hoping that post-remodel, there would be a nice, out of the way place for one in the house, but that wasn't going to happen. Late, on the night after Thanksgiving, I decided I was ready for a treadmill that wasn't a clothes hanger, even if this meant working out in the garage and dropping the dream of getting two cars in there. With two minutes to spare on Black Friday, I ordered a treadmill at a screaming deal. I was ready to go...but unfortunately, it took a month for the treadmill to arrive. (The delay was due to either laziness or an attempted shake down by the local delivery company, but the treadmill company handled it all so well, that I loved them before stepping foot on my treadmill.)
The treadmill arrived the day before Christmas, and I was too busy to try it, then I got sick Christmas night and was wiped out for days. Suddenly, it was Jan. 2, and I was finally ready to roll, I mean run. I shouldn't say roll because my fear is that I stumble, hit the treadmill deck, then shoot off the back, much like my middle sister did TWICE at my parents' house. I've used the treadmill almost every day since. On the days I don't, it's because I've used the one at the gym. (The gym treadmill has a TV that I either love or feel motion sick from watching, it all depends on the day. Also, I secretly race the people around me at the gym. I can now take most old people. Most. Not all.)
The treadmill and other zombie apocalypse prep was not a New Year's resolution. What was a resolution of sorts was my word of the year - strive - but truly, within days of proclaiming strive the focus point of my year, a new, better word kept popping up in my head: rebuild. This year is about tearing down the old, weak parts, and rebuilding something better to replace it. This has been a great month and a great start, even when there were set backs (literally, property set backs) with the house remodel plans, migraines or another special time of the month that made me want to curl up in bed and eat chocolate ice cream (which I did, after I did my time on the treadmill), a heavy workload, and various other issues, all the things that would normally wear me down and make me feel sour, didn't. I made a conscious decision to be more positive, and it's worked. It hasn't work every moment of every hour, but overall, I feel more upbeat.
I'm kinda sad to see January go. It was a good time.