We decided to hit the gym after work today. I’m not going to lie, it was a big fat drag. I’ve basically hit a wall with working out. I mean, going to the gym has always been boring to me, but I think when I was younger, it was easier to be OK with being bored. In my 20s, I think I went to the gym because that’s what I thought I was supposed to do, so that I could drink and smoke all I wanted and still look like a relatively normal person. In my early 30s, I basically took a break from exercise, you know, to advance my career and prep for having a kid. And now I feel like I need to make up for lost time and get back into shape. But what shape?
My trainer has asked me what my workout goals are and I’m really stumped to find one. I suppose losing a bit of weight is a good side effect of exercise for me, but weight loss isn’t really one of my goals. I guess my goal is to not drop dead before my time, hopefully be able to see my son grow up and have a family of his own, maybe be able to play with my grandkids one day (and not from the comfort of a wheelchair or hooked to an oxygen tank).
I think it would be a lot easier to have an exercise goal if it was driven by vanity, but “being healthy” feels like such a nebulous goal to work toward. Busy daddy had to cut his workout short tonight because of a bad blister on his foot. I cut my workout short because of my bad attitude.
Yes, I think I’m having a mid-life (or is it one-third-life?) crisis.