Today I am wracked with guilt. It’s a sensation which I get often.

The guilt I am feeling today is gym guilt. It’s a breed of guilt which I get quite a lot, because though I have been relatively good at going to the gym, it’s too easy to convince myself that I can skip a day, only to feel insta-regret as soon as it’s too late to go.

Going to the gym has been good for me. I’ve lost some weight, gained a great deal of health, and all round felt better. Plus I use less water in the house because I shower there, and I also don’t wake up Boyfriend with the hairdryer. Everyone’s a winner. The problem comes on days like today, where I wake up and hear the rain, feel lovely and warm in bed, and then get a text from my gym buddy saying she’s skipping. It’s impossible not to convince myself that I can get away with missing the gym just this once. 

To be honest, I actually am fine missing it just this once, because I do go fairly consistently. For the price of my membership, twice a week is cost-effective, and two days a week I am not having to go before work, so that should be entirely achievable. Two days a week may not seem like much, but then I’m also not working towards any goals other than keeping my general fitness up, which I probably do fairly well with all the general rushing around that my life entails.

So why do I feel so damn guilty?

To be honest, I think it’s been a long process leading to this point. I don’t remember feeling guilty for not doing things, but since I got to uni, I’ve been becoming more and more relaxed (thanks to Boyfriend for teaching me) and with that relaxation comes a backlash of just not getting quite as much DONE as I used to. Then the guilt finds its way in. I’m learning to work through it (think of this post as therapy) because that guilt is not healthy, but I don’t want to lose it. I just want it to morph into productive motivation to get things done. Which it will, in time. Until then, I just have to deal with a little bit of guilt. Oh well.