3. Analyze This

My brain never shuts off. I'm not the type that is constantly having brilliant, groundbreaking academic thoughts, nor am I inundated with witty one-liners. Instead, my brain is just always on, typically filled with worries, over-analysis, or negative thoughts. The problem is so pervasive that I have trouble falling asleep and concentrating on tasks, even of the most mundane nature.

I've grown up thinking this was normal. {Really, it's all I've ever known.} Even as a baby, my mother confirmed that I rarely slept, but instead, would just sit in my crib and stare. {Awesome, the freak genes started early.}

Part of my problem when preparing to attack a goal, be it something simple like "Clean out the front closet" or more intense, such as "Lose the body weight equivalent to two husky toddlers," I over-analyze the task beforehand, making it that much harder to begin. So on Sunday, I did something extraordinary. I stopped thinking. Another barrier to me attacking a problem {weight loss, for example} is not being prepared. So Sunday morning, I asked my husband to create an intense workout program for me. Directions were simple: write it down in a notebook where I had to check off workouts and make notes on progress, weights, etc., and bug the shit out of me if I'm not following it. And he did. Then the remarkable happened. I didn't think about the workout ahead of time, I didn't make excuses why I should instead just rest on the couch and zone out with crappy reality tv {Have they made a Real Housewives of Cook County, yet? Why not}. I just did the workout. And let me tell you: I did the workout like a boss.

Tom supervised, offering tips on my form, miscounting my reps, etc. He told me that he was so impressed by my squat form. Me! I have an impressive squat form. {Yes, I know there's a possibility he's complimenting me because we share a bed, but whatever. I'm taking it.} Last night, I took a look at the holy grail workout notebook, determined I could workout in our garage {weightlifting chamber of doom}, put my shoes on, and got it done.

Isn't it funny how our defense mechanisms can sometimes be our own worst enemy? Lesson learned.

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