Workout Journal – 4/11/17 – If a one-legged man can do it…

Good lord, I did not want to do Plyometrics at all last night. What it came down to was that if a one-legged man can do it, well, then what heck am I whinging about?

Look, I’m not a huge fan of guilt and I think motivation is largely nothing but sheer bullshit, but I honestly do believe that sometimes you need to be clearly shown-up and made to feel foolish in the face of your excuses for being a lazy sack of crap.

I don’t like doing my workouts in the evening. I really don’t. There’s a whole bunch of reasons for this, but the biggest, most significant one is that it’s really, really easy to blow off a planned workout when you’re running out of day to get it done in.

So, what did my excuse list look like last night?

  1. I’m tired.
  2. I just ate dinner.
  3. I’m tired.
  4. Oooh, look, TV!
  5. I’m tired.
  6. My arms are sore from the previous workout.
  7. I’m tired.
  8. I don’t wanna.
  9. I’m tired.
  10. You can’t make me.

None of that stuff went away. I was still tired after I was done. I was still sore. I still wanted to watch the Giants game on TV. I still didn’t wanna.

But ever since the first time I did the Plyo workout back in 2009 I have never gotten the image or Eric, a guy with a prosthetic leg, shaming the living shit out of me by visibly showing me my reasons for not exercising were all crap.

Eric didn’t inspire me. He shamed me.

Whatever complicated or simple reasons I give myself for indulging in my crapulence are nothing compared to missing a goddamned leg.

Look, my pain, your pain, they’re not invalid just because they’re not as objectively awful as someone else’s. I get that. I can still be unhappy or uncomfortable within my own relative zone of existence even though that zone of existence doesn’t include missing limbs, famine, plague or whatever other things I or anyone else can point out as being worse. But a lot of the time telling me to seize the day, or grab life by the horns, or whatever feeble inspirational/motivational garbage you throw at me just doesn’t do a damned thing to get me to choose to do better and be better. Showing me that I ought to be grateful that I can do this stupid workout without having to strap on a prosthetic leg and make sure it’s not going to fall off mid-lunge though, well, that does tend to get me off my ass.

So, thanks, Eric, wherever you are. If you can get it done, so can I.

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