It's been a while since I've brought everyone up to speed on how Gymuary is progressing, and I'm sad to say it's not because of my deep appreciation of how boring it is, listening to people talking about what they did at the gym.
As it turns out, January is a pretty lousy pick if you're determined to go to the gym every single day for a month. At least in New England. We're now twenty-nine days into January, and I've only gone thirteen of those days. As a consolation to my overworked guilt gland, I never once failed to go to the gym simply because I didn't want to. The spirit was willing. Those gym-fails were due to two blizzards, two days of dangerously low negative temperatures (I walk to my gym), one injury, and now bronchitis. I'm bummed. I'm also just a little impressed with myself for having not wonked myself up worse than I may have out of blind determination. As one of my yoga instructors likes to tell me as I'm triangle-ing, I hyperextend.
Basically, it'll be a miracle if my bronchitis goes away by Monday and I can make it in for a final Gymuary workout. Trust me, I'd love nothing more. I have cabin fever like you wouldn't believe, plus I do my best story brainstorming while I'm exercising. I'm itching to work out. And so sadly, Discipline Year's first month is sort of a big fat FAIL, but for legitimate reasons.
Onward and upward! It's nearly Face-Off February, and luckily, I can't fail that challenge due to circumstances beyond my control. A cosmetics tsunami won't sweep through and force foundation onto my face. The only thing that can cause me to fail is an acute attack of vanity. In fact, February is one of few challenges this year that will actually save me time, and demand less of my effort and energy than normal. I've got my before-and-after mugshots ready to go, so tune in on Tuesday as I kick off the next Discipline Year challenge.