Working out is not working out...

The Curves I go to changed their gym hours for the summer. I was in a rhythm, going at noon Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Maybe not all three days every week, but I did my best and usually made it at least two of the three days each week. In June, they changed their hours and close from 12:30-4:00 in the afternoon, I suppose to avoid the heat of the day and save energy.

That means to get there in time to change my clothes and get my workout in before they close, I have to leave the office at 11:30. Most days, there is no way that is going to happen. Most days I have meetings that start at 11:00. So my summer workout schedule has not been good...

Now, I COULD go at night. They reopen from 4:00-8:00. But that would require me to go home, take care of the dogs, change and drive back to the gym, which is near my office. The part of me that likes things to be smooth and easy and would rather play or rest does not like this idea. The part of me that does not like excuses and thinks I should be perfect and that tortures me with barbs about my "fattitude" does not the idea that I am making excuses and not being perfect about working out and calls my attention to my muffin top. It runs tapes in my head of the club manager saying that I won't get results if I don't go. "I KNOW THAT BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF MY LIFE?" whines the part that wants balance.

I get obsessive about things. I've been obsessing about my weight ever since I saw pictures of myself from my high school reunion. I see I'm bigger than I want to be and I want to say I'm working on it. I'm sort of working on it. I'm making some better choices about food. I'm walking the dog two miles a day. But I'm not counting calories. I'm not going vegetarian. I'm not giving up wine. I'm not going to the gym when its not convenient.

And I'm winding myself up about this, when the reality is in three weeks Curves will go back to it's regular hours and I'll be able to go back during lunch again. So, it's not working out for me to work out as much as my inner gym teacher would like me to work out right now. I think maybe I'll be okay. Maybe. But I'll still feel guilty.