I read that question this morning and it stopped me cold. My number one excuse for not exercising is . . . I just don’t have time. I want to work out. I pack my workout clothes in a tote bag that pretends to be a gym bag and bring them with me to work, but something always comes up. An unexpected meeting. Lunch with a friend I haven’t seen in forever. Fatigue that sets in like fog over the Golden Gate.
Before I know it, I’m putting it off until tomorrow. One more day won’t hurt anything. How much bigger can my butt get in one day?
Besides, my kids need me. They need to see me.
Yes – they need to see me healthy. They need to see me taking care of myself. They need me alive and well and strong, which only exercise can accomplish.
So, off to the gym I go, or around the big West Jordan block for a 3-mile run. And with every step, every imperfect, too-tired-to-run-today step, I love them. I love them, and I love myself and I love life. . . life loves me. Life and I fairly fully agree. Life is fine. Life is good. ‘Specially mine, which is just as it should be . . . (Thank you Scrooge.)
So c’mon – let’s lace ’em up.