Discipline breeds pettiness

Hello, dear reader(s), I have been exercising.  On a schedule.  With a plan to "become healthy", or healthier, in the long run.  And, of course, to change the shape my body has decided to take.  Personally I was hoping for the shape of a trapezoid, but I'm told that would take painful measures and tons of staples.  So, I've opted for society's "healthy in-shape girl!".  Ah well.

For an obsessive compulsive with anxiety issues, like myself, I find it difficult to allow myself to actually carve out time in my ridiculously busy schedule to focus on ME and do something for ME.  It all seems like a sacrifice and a waste of good sleep or other I-could-be-doing-something-more-productive time.  But, the truth is, most of the hour I, now, use to workout, used to be spent stressing over how much crap I have to do.  It was not productive at all.  It was just a crappy waste of time.

So, dear reader, I've decided to make myself #1.

This, of course, means I get to complain, bemoan, and bitch heartily about what a complete cunt this person is.  This horrible fascist¹ who is making my body do all these incredibly frustrating, muscle-fatiguing things...ME.

This entry is an example of my pettiness.

Normally I work out at 6am.  It's early enough that I can workout for an hour and still shower, eat breakfast, and get on the bus for school.  However we had a day off so I slept in.  I was planning to get some paperwork done and some things off my to-do list.  However, I couldn't concentrate because I knew I needed to workout.  So, with the knowledge, I changed into my workout clothes, checked the time and thought about which workout I wanted to do.

START IT UP
This is the easier (albeit I still sweat like hell) 24 minute workout. No resistance band work or real mat work (except push-ups and mini-abs) thus it is called: Start it up

RAMP IT UP
This is the intermediate workout (resistance bands and mat work included with abs and extra push-ups and yoga at the end). This one is 47 minutes. It kicks me in the nuts.  It's called: Ramp it Up

I'm cranky and don't really WANT to do the harder workout. But I know it's better for me. But I really don't want to. But I know in the end I'll be happier. But I really don't want to.

So I decide to flip a coin.

Heads = Start it up, 

Tails = Ramp it up.

or 

Heads = Pussy workout

Tails = Less Pussy workout

I grab a trusty nickel.  

(What?  Nickels are trusty!)

I flip the coin.

And it drops on the floor.

Tails. Ramp it up.

Well, I think maybe it's only fair if I actually catch the coin after the toss so...

I flip it again.

And I catch it.

And it's TAILS again.

Hmmmm....well, maybe two out of three (or three out of five if you count the one on the floor)

So I flip it AGAIN.

And it's TAILS AGAIN!

I sigh. And put in the damned DVD of Ramp it Up.

And now it's over. 

And I DO feel better.

And I'm glad I did the harder workout. But, seriously....

Fuck You Coin.

(For those of you who like the visual type of blog, see below)

I toss the first coin.  It lands on the floor.  AND it's Tails

I flip the coin again.  I catch it.  It's TAILS, again.

I flip the coin the 3rd time.  It's Tails. AGAIN.

Fuck you, coin.

------------------------------------------------------------------

1. As I've told Wolter, in the past, swastikas are funny.