I Miss The Gym

I really do.

Who AM I, anymore?

A few weeks ago, this was my picture of the day -

45 minutes on the treadmill at 3.5 speed and I felt awesome. 400 calories? Well that was just peachy keen.

Now, I’m still stuck on bed rest and getting kind of bored. On Saturday, I was actually kind of excited about going back to the office this week, but now that it’s only two days away, I’m not so sure I feel that way anymore. I mean, I love my job, but it’s going to be exhausting walking around the office in the surgical boot. I’ve been trying little excursions the past few days to get up to it, and I know I’ll be fine.

But more than anything, I want my foot to be magically heeled so I can go bust out a good work out at the gym.

And that got me thinking – who AM I anymore? Last summer, I would have said you were crazy if you actually missed the gym. Apparently, I’m crazy! Because I sure do. I guess that’s what months of exercising every other day topped off with two weeks of bed rest and the removal of any possible exercise will do to a person.

I can’t wait until the doctor clears me for light exercise and I can get back into the swing of things. Because almost twenty pounds later, I don’t want to go back to that girl from last summer who didn’t know the key code to the apartment complex gym.