How to persuade yourself into a P.M. workout
September 16, 2016 Ashley 0 Comments
Rising, shining, and sweating your sitter off is a great way to start your day.
You get your workout overwith, get energized for the day, and kickstart your metabolism.
But we can’t all be early bird cardio Cardinals.
“I’m not yawning. I’m laughing at yester-me who thought I’d actually wake up at 5 and work out today.”
For those who work graveyard shifts, have to commute when the moon’s still out, or have little ones to lasso into clothes and a school bus, it’s just not a logical option. Or maybe you could make it happen, but it’d be super inconvenient. The problem? After a full day of dealing with beleaguering clients, customers, managers, or tasks in general, you just don’t feel like it by the time you get home either. You want your reward. Your wine. Your fleece. A few episodes of “Stranger Things”.
And I totally get it.
Because when I’ve spent nine hours on my feet, going for a dusk time run’s not exactly at the top of my wish inventory. However, if I’m feeling (deep in the honest-with-myself part of my brain) that I need it in order to fall asleep sounder or wake up feeling better about myself tomorrow, I can generally talk myself into it pretty easily. And how’s that?
Well, I’d be lying if I said that my daily diet didn’t play a massive role in paving the way to remaining open to evening cardio when it’s time to clock out and head home. By loading up on a hefty breakfast of fruit, fiber, and protein, I stay full enough all day and release my blood sugar slowly enough that I’m never bottoming out or binge eating edibles that ultimately exhaust me. Because I’m satiated, I don’t have to reach for the free, glazed and sprinkled rings coworkers bring in from Duck Donuts. I’m happy to suppress the occasional belly organ growl with the cut up plums or peaches I brought in, bananas, and whatever other healthy from-home things I can eat on the run without sacrificing my waistline. Because I do this, I don’t end up with that energy drop midday that we all get when we start our day with pop tarts or cave to croissant cravings at lunch. As a result, as the day progresses, I’m both full, but not lost in the cognitive fog or full body fatigue bad eating brings.
Or eating crap food that I’ll sport on my porky pins after it becomes a habit, for that matter.
(At least the name’s honest: ‘in’ your mouth – and ‘out’ is how your belly looks before long.
All fast food should be called this.)
And while all of that’s probably pretty obvious, what’s less “common sense” is the mental element of it.
Because, even with my epic eating repertoire, it’s hard. Cardio (or strength training, for that matter) is hard to make myself do after a long day. Getting my brain on board when it just wants its reward is a real chore. However, I find that when I skip it, I get the equivalent of a withdrawal stricken smack addict’s restless leg syndrome. I can’t sleep. I toss. I turn. I get rage episodes. It ain’t pretty. I need my night run sometimes. So, in order to talk myself into doing a late sweat sesh, I’ve had to hack my own cerebral P.C.
And how’s that?
Well, I’ll give a protip to the fitness self-flagellaters:
It’s not by telling myself I’m fat or worrying about how I’ll feel if I don’t.
Rather, what I do is spend the entire ride home from my day gig (which – to reiterate – is indeed nine hours on my feet, running around), gearing up for my night run. There’s this whole eclectic, pumped-for-a-run playlist I reserve for such occasions. I keep it varied for a reason, too. Because if I’m in a high energy, kinda positive mood, “Uptown Funk” might be what I need. If I’ve had an opposite of awesome day, it’s old school Chino screaming via the Deftones’ “Headup”.
(Or whatever you’re into. #NoJudgments)
Also, there’s another way I crack my cranial code as I ride home:
What I do, is (focus intently on driving safely, obviously, but also) visualize exactly every little thing I’m gonna do to prepare for heading out to the gym or park or wherever I intend to work out. I picture putting on my running tights. I visualize lacing up my Asics. Crating my dog. Grabbing water. My purse. Every little detail. And why?
Well, actively imagining myself getting ready makes my night workout easier for two reasons.
First, by the time I get home, it’s easier to get sweat ready IRL because I’ve already done the prep part in my brain. All I have to do is act it out. I’m almost on autopilot. But the second bit to this’s almost more important. And that’s the part where I get my noggin on the night jogging docket and make it a willing participant in my plan. See, whether you spend twenty minutes or an hour thinking “I don’t wanna do this shiz, but I’m making myself”, you’re A.) resenting it and B.) spending precious time once you physically get home deliberating about whether you wanna do it or not. Plus, the actual aerobic bout itself is miserable if you make yourself – ’cause you’ve already been reinforcing how much you hate it. Thus, you’re mentally resisting it all along. The good news? It doesn’t have to be that way. How? Well, by cognitively constructing a plan of action in your head all the way home, you’re not thinking about how much you hate that you have to do it. You’re not inviting your opinion into it at all. It’s just another task you’re hacking – like you would at work. You’re simply the architect of an imminent plan that has to happen. There is no other option. There is no other focus. There is no “want”. And this, in essence, helps eliminate all that resistance and those Napoleon Dynamite style exasperated sighs and the “I don’t wanna’s”. There’s just this singular focus – the plan, supplemented by this awesome soundtrack to get you into your pre-workout Spartan state.
Or even just, ya know, “Viking light” state.
Whatever your body’s begging of you.
“TONIGHT WE DO FIFTEEN MINUTES OF RECUMBENT BIKING!!!!1”
So, next time your best laid plans for nine hours from now comprise cardio, try my trifecta:
1.) Superlative food fueling (especially breakfast), 2.) preparatory visualizing, and 3.) a high caliber soundtrack.
Because maybe you can’t always be an aerobic A.M. avian.
But you can totally be a nocturnal gains Nightingale.