Fair warning: I’ve already taken my Ambien so this may not end well. In fact, it will likely end with a string of bbbbbbbbbbb.

I went to the gym today for the sixth time in eight days. When one of the trainers asked if I was training for a race, I pointed to my head and said, “Yes, a mental one.” It’s taken me a long time to realize it, but I finally have the clarity to know my mind is messed up. Wait.

Physical activity – and I mean HARD Crossfit training, or a good run (but my good runs are really just extended bad runs) are the only things that help me manage stress well.

I realized last week that I could feel my mind and body slipping into a familiar state of anxiety. I am so in tune with the connection between my weakened brain and the quivering needs of my muscles….oh, who am I fooling. I had a particularly stressful afternoon and came home and went right for a baked potato. THAT was how I realized it. Once I find myself turning to carbs for emotional needs, I know it’s time to invest some extra time at the gym.

And, every other day – like today – it worked. Not only did I complete most of my work project that’s due tomorrow, I managed to go to the grocery store and make dinner, vacuum, and fold some laundry. I functioned. AFTER the workout.

Maybe it’s the encouragement I get, maybe it’s seeing my own strength improve a lot over the last few months, maybe I need to know that I can accomplish a set of chin-ups before moving onto a career challenge. Either way, this gym and these trainers are all helping me get to a place where my mind feels right and that’s not an easy task. The muscles I’m gaining are a total bonus.

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