As you may recall, I’m currently in the midst of an intervention. And, as interventions may go, it’s moving along quite nicely, if I do say so myself. As with anything in life, finding the motivation was half the battle, really. You know, that whole mind over matter thing. To be quite frank, I tend to struggle with a little condition of “matter over mind”.
Recently, though, I’ve reacquainted myself with my inner strength and motivation. I thought perhaps you all might benefit from some of these highly technical tips and techniques, too.
Money. As you probably already know, money can be motivating. I encourage you to consider financial punishments and/or rewards when setting up a personal goal. If you’re like me though, this alone is easy to lose sight of…like the cost of my gym membership. The thought of wasting that auto-drafted chunk of change every month has never once been motivation enough for me to drag my lazy bootie to the treadmill.
Public humiliation. When in doubt, plan your own roast. I did and I really hope I get to cancel it. I REALLY hope I get to avoid that. Really. I don’t know if I can survive that.
Circle of friends. Peer pressure is a good thing…after about 21 or so. Get a partner – or more – and put them on speed dial. My partner in crime and I have talked each other down from the ledge more than once already. With her support, I was able to resist the temptation of the fresh, hot pizza calling my name. She, with the assistance of my psychological prowess, was able to throw away a completely untouched small fry from McDonald’s. Together, there is nothing we cannot resist. Last year, I had a workout partner…until that crazy chick moved without my permission. While we ran our mouths, and laughed till our sides ached, we worked our booties off multiple days a week – despite our busy schedules and irrational harassment from a tacky gym patron. Everything’s more fun with a friend.
Tunes. Not only does music keep your energy level up while your working, but it’s been known to keep me going a little longer, too. For instance, I may be in the last two tenths of a run when a favorite song comes on. All of the sudden, I go all music-Nazi-slave-driver on myself and make a rule that I can only listen as long as I’m running. If I quit, the music goes off. Usually, a great song will be worth another few minutes of weary muscles and chest pains for me. (Then again, I’ve often said I want to find a gym where it’s completely normal to bust out in song and dance while you’re on the treadmill.)
Open your eyes. If fitness is your goal, take a good hard look in the mirror. Naked. Recently, I started my own ritual. After arriving at the gym, I drop off the girlies in the play area and head straight for a private dressing room. Then, I strip. Nothin’ but skin, babe. I stand there in the obnoxiously poor lighting from the one pitiful 60-watt incandescent hanging overhead and try to disgust myself. I look at all the places I usually suck in and cover up. Then, I suit up and head to the torture chamber, ready to do battle.
Jealousy…I mean “role models”. Choose the treadmill, elliptical machine, or mat right next to the hot chick. Watch her. Get jealous. Really, really jealous. Like – bitter and mean jealous. Let the envy soak in deep until you feel like a fat pig. Then, push harder, run faster, lift stronger – because you can be that flaming hot, too. Show that biotch what you’ve got! Yeah!
An audience. Be aware of the men watching you. You may think you look awful – sweaty, stinky, ragged and pale. Apparently, they don’t agree. Either that or they just don’t care, because men watch women working out. That’s all there is to it. Married men, single men, old men, young men – they’re all looking at you. Feel the heat of their eyes boring holes into your arse. Imagine what they see. I don’t know about you, but if somebody’s going to be looking at my backside, I hope they see a nice, firm buttocks with just enough softness for a good pinch – not a bowl of jell-o and orange rinds. Somehow, I think you might agree.
Eye candy. Look right back at those men. Sometimes, you get lucky. Just today, this totally hunky Tim Tebow look-a-like pulled up to the elliptical right next to me. Wow. Not a minute before, I had begun to back down and woos out. Miraculously, I got my second (third?) wind, found a little more strength, and stuck it out through the remainder of my mission. And, as an added bonus, I also noticed a nice looking man downstairs who, through squinted eyes and the red metal handrails of the stairs, looked an awful lot like a scruffy Chris O’Donnell. I was thoroughly entertained.
Sweet success. As a friend of mine said recently, nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. No pain is worse than the sting of defeat. The miles never look more doable than when you’re looking back over your shoulder. You never feel fat and lazy AFTER you work out. Focus on these things.
I don’t claim to be an expert – by any means. But, I’m pushing. I’m hurting, I’m sucking it up, and I’m trying everyday to do better than the day before. And, that’s all anyone can ever ask.
I'm giving you my five bucks this week. Enjoy a latte on me, woman because it's the last you're gonna get.
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