it is a special time...

Everyone who knows me, also knows that I am somewhat of an obsessive exerciser.  This is for a few reasons.

1. It makes me so happy.

2. I am good at it (I enjoy things I am good at...such a small list).

3. My clothes fit better (obviously).

4. In case I end up on a deserted island and The Others chase me (it's real, ok?)

5. So I can eat as much as I want (and 98% of the time, I want to eat a lot).

6. I like to wear gym clothes (stretchy pants, t shirts and shorts? hell. yes.). 

7. It is my Me Time.

Due to this list of clearly very important and logical reasons, I usually work out 6 days a week. That includes weight training, cardio, yoga, circuits, etc. I just love exercise. People hate sitting at home watching tv with me because I will exercise the whole time, I cannot just sit still. And it just makes sense, it is good for you! It is great for you! I mean, really, you could wear those ugly Shape Up shoes to get a toned butt or you could just hit the pavement and enjoy the outdoors or a stair climber or anything and get the same results while benefiting your entire being.

Ugly Shoes 

or

It is a pretty obvious choice to me which is more attractive.

But the problem is that right now I am suffering from allowing myself to be in what I so begrudgingly call "My Plushy Months".  This repulsive period of time is about end of November until mid February. It happens every year. It is awful. I am not depressed, I am absolutely dispirited from being cold, wet, cold, gloomy, icky, and cold.

Additionally, there are vacations, holidays and a bagillion other reasons to not workout during those months. Not to mention it is just so gross outside. Plus with full time work and school, time really gets away from me. I know that I can make the time (I do 9 other months out of the year) but during these months I find myself opting for more sleepy sleep time instead. 

I just want to go back to this:

I am stuck in a fatty, gelatinous, lazy and icky mode and I must get myself out of it. But I really just wanna hide in my warm, comfy bed (oh and I have definitely not given up my treats...). Is that so bad?? Yes. Yes it is. Because I was so fed up with my pathetic self that I did workout these past three days. And I felt like I was carrying a 30lb weight on my butt and my arms were made of spaghetti noodles (yes, by that point I was depressed). 

Boo. Since when did metabolisms start slowing down so early in life? Since when did winter have to last ten million days?  Since when did I let anything stop me from working out?? I need help.