I'm going on a walk. By myself. Alone. Without you.

Every two or three weeks, I get all motivated to start an exercise regime. I write out a schedule, spend too much time imagining myself running for miles, picture my body all strong and muscle-y. I lace up my sneakers and walk out my front door. I walk for about 5 minutes, as my "warm-up" and then start a slow jog.

And then I stop. After 30 seconds.

I think, what the fuck am I doing? I hate running. I don't want to be out of breath. My legs don't feel strong, as I had imagined they would; they feel wobbly, jiggly, and unstable. this is the problem, dumb-dumb. you have to actually jog for longer than 30 seconds if you're going to feel stronger. you're such a dip-shit. 

So, I start walking. I tell myself I'm going to walk for another minute and then I'll start running again. I'll take it easy. I'm not stupid; I'll ease into my exercise regime.

But then I never start running. I just walk the entire time, until I find myself just a couple blocks from my house. I think, I'll run home...yeah, that'll be good. I'll run home, and this will be interval training. interval training means you switch from one activity or level to another. you keep changing what you're doing. you're just going to run for the next minute or two then sit on your couch. that's NOT interval training.

But I don't run. I just keep walking. And I realize when I'm taking my sneakers off and taking the baby from my husband that I'm not ready. I'm not ready to sweat. And be out of breath. I'm not ready to push myself to the next level. Not today. Maybe tomorrow...