March wasn’t the best month for me. You’d think it’d be otherwise, with it being my birthday month and whatnot. Though I enjoyed the day of turning 35, a couple weeks before I was an emotional wreck. See, early in the month, I started a diet and exercise program. Eight weeks of RushFit with slow carb meals and a weekly cheat day. I had it all planned out, I was prepared, and I was mentally writing my “I did it!” blog post in my mind.
Thursday of the second week found me curled up on the couch, sobbing over the silliest thing. I didn’t get to do my exercise. I’d spent the morning at the pediatrician addressing my son’s ability to breathe, and then the afternoon at the urgent care doc-in-the-box with my husband’s swollen foot and aching knee. I returned home to find I had a flat tire on my car, which isn’t a common size and there were no businesses that kept it in stock.
I broke down, and I cried. Not because I couldn’t torture myself with exercise, but because it was yet another thing that I had started and failed. All I wanted was to prove to myself that I could follow this program, that I could accomplish this. I could stick to this! Even with all my careful effort, all my preparedness, Life grabbed me by the back of the head and shoved my face into the ground.
I don’t handle spur-of-the-moment changes very well.
You might think, it’s just one day! Just pick it up the next day and carry on. Well, it continued for a week. School meetings, award assemblies, music programs, doctor appointments, factory recalls on my car… Little things that took hours out of my day, hours that I’d reserved for me.
The selfish despair set it. My best friend can attest to the mental drama going on. Feeling sad that I couldn’t have my time, feeling guilty about feeling sad. My brain isn’t a pleasant place to be.
But you’re here for Insecure Writer’s Support Group, not the laments of Loni. It ties in. My writing is a lot like my exercise. It’s something I love, that I need, and it’s also something I can’t do well with the kids around or if I don’t get my single hour a day that I’ve allotted myself for my me time.
As the years continue to pass, I worry if this next book will be another one of those things that won’t see completion. Sure, I can pick it up, carry on, get to it when I can. But it’s a painful reminder that I’m not allowed to make it a priority in my life.
Despite everything, I have been making progress in writing. It’s not the project I should be working on, but it’s still writing. I will be starting my eight week program again on Sunday, after I run a 5K with my sis-in-law. I hope this time, I’ll get to write my success post.
BTW, my birthday was good. I got free lunch with my co-workers, sushi for dinner, and did one of those escape rooms with my husband. I had a great time.
How was your March? Do you like any particular exercise programs? How is your writing coming along?