The Fitness Junkie

 In the beginning of March, my husband Matthew decided he was going to train to become a stronger, faster predator for hunting. 
He had obtained a bow. Archery is new to him; his entire life was rifle large game. 
It has been eight years since the last time he set foot into the woods to hunt. 
I feel I am the cause of that. For after we met, we began building a family.  
Both of us came from slightly dysfunctional homes (but who doesn’t have that).  
As a parent, you vow to raise your offspring better than your parents had you- so that you may prevent any repeats of negative memories which as an adult currently, (we try) very hard to suppress. (Easy parents, we still love the crap out of you.) It is a natural instinct. A thirst to prove yourself.  
For those who are not yet or do not want to have children, it may be a different path but it’s all the same to me…. 
We as human beings CRAVE success. If you’re a six figure entrepreneur, or a simpleton like me who dreamt of being a stay at home mother… 
bottom line is- We all want it. We all go about achieving it differently. 
Back to Matthew. He impressed me intensely with his drive and commitment to changing not only his diet, but committed to heavy exercise on a daily basis.  
I encouraged him to let me purchase a gym membership for him.  
He has not faltered a day attending. 
On March 19th, 2015 I decided to listen to Matthew and join the gym as well. 
He discussed the importance of sacrifice for gain. We both agreed that I would go to the gym in the evenings after he came home from work, so that the children could stay at home and I wouldn’t have to worry about being cut short a workout. (Let’s face it, my son is a total mamas boy.) 
I have missed three days in the last 35. I have lost only 8lbs but I am certain I have also gained quite a bit in muscle. 
I depend on the gym. I live for the gym. Seeing my body transform because I worked hard to do it is something that I am still in shock over to this day. 
My lungs are stronger. My legs are stronger. My heart rate is lower each time I get up for cardio. I am understanding the importance of balancing life. Specifically- mental health and physical health. 
They most certainly go hand in hand. (At least for me they do.) cardio and free weights are my Klonapen and Lamictal. Cardio releases the vice squeezing against my chest while lifting balances and nurtures my emotional stability.  
There are physical benefits to exercise. I am no Dr. But it’s easy to explain endorphins and how they affect our minds and bodies. 
Similar to exercise, endorphins released during a tattoo session are both pleasurable and rewarding.  
I have days where I do not want to go. I refuse multiple times in my head and try to convince myself otherwise. But then I call bull shit on me. 
I cart my ass down there and if I cry guess what… I’m on that eliptical fucking crying and dancing to heavy metal.  
I will not falter. 
I am not trying to lead as an example. I am merely showing where I have ended up, who I have become and who I so desperately want to be. (I have yet to figure that out.) 
So for now, I will continue to push myself. Harder, faster, and stronger everyday.  
And no one will get in my way. 
GET SOME.