Other than teaching two dance classes per week + a weekly 2 hour pro troupe rehearsal, my exercise regimen is less of a regimen and more of a catch-as-catch-can grab bag of odd moments where my heart rate manages to crawl above the 100 mark. This has much to do with the fact the bit of self-discipline I possess is currently being used up in other areas (*cough*dissertation*cough*), but also because I get caught up in the mind trap of thinking I do not have the time to do it.

I recently decided to get over myself and join a cheap-ass gym with no long-term commitment clause. I hate joining gyms because I have access to a dance studio where, if I could create a little bit of a routine for myself, I could use dance conditioning as an “exercise regimen” for free (and do, sometimes. It’s way cooler to do arm conditioning with two heavy swords than dumbbells, I’ll admit, and I typically get the same results. And avoiding stabbing myself does add a bit of a different challenge to it). But coming up with a good set of routines requires thought. Thought means time.  And because of the Big Paper, I don’t have time for all that.

See? Mind trap.

I could walk around the block a few times like a normal person, but there is something about paying a little bit of money that motivates me better (and then I don’t have the “weather is bad” excuse to bow out of it). I also live in a high-traffic area where dudes have a tendency to think it’s funny to whistle and cat-call the girl walking on the sidewalk, so the only way my heart rate gets up is through my angry “I WILL HAND YOU YOUR ASS!” warning (complete with fist pump, it’s been a very effective way of scaring the crap out of them). It sucks to be a girl sometimes.

So I joined the stupid cheap gym, which I only really need through the next couple of months as I slog toward Phd-dom (then maybe I can get something more, um free, together). Since the dissertation push began in January, I have managed to gain at least 10 pounds. I don’t worry so much about how it looks, but how it feels (sluggish, tired, and my knees always feel any extra weight I carry, should I be carrying it. Not good). I also started thinking back to my comps process (MA and PhD comps– did the same thing for both), where I joined short-term gyms just to be able to have a place to jump on machine and hit the mental auto-pilot for awhile. It really helped then, so I figured it would do the same now. And we all know I could use a little extra oxygen going to my brain, and definitely more serotonin. Especially that last one. Good living through chemistry only gets you so far.

As a part of joining the cheap-ass gym, I got a free training session, which I completed yesterday.

It was okay. I liked it, but I’m not really into the whole “high-five-good-job” vibe that many trainers give you. I’m way too cynical and bitter for all that business. They tried to get me to sign up for paid sessions, which made me realize where they probably get most of their income since the monthly membership is so, well, cheap. I said thanks, but no thanks. The student loan folks are knocking on my door. I’m going to have to quit pretending I’m not home pretty soon. So, unless you can train my loan payments away, all that money would be a waste when it could be a tiny drop in a very large monthly bucket.

But back to the point. I have decided that this dissertation is killing me. What the training session made me realize is that I am so far out of shape that it’s not even funny. I definitely hung in there like a boss (even the trainer was impressed since I told him I’d basically been sitting in front of a computer for the previous month and a half), but I am feeling that shit today. I had to make sure I got in a little exercise this morning for all the soreness, otherwise I’ll need a cane just to hobble around by this evening (not doing anything is so much worse than at least moving those sore muscles around a bit). I forgot that while yes, I teach two dance classes a week, I’ve had people subbing for me on and off while I was getting my defense draft out. That did not help. I’ve also been eating weird stuff at weird times. Stress eating , definitely. Not to mention my late-night whisky binges. And I have that little serotonin problem that keeps my motivation level pretty low. It was REALLY low during the writing of my defense draft. I had tried doing some jump-rope breaks when I got stuck on the writing, but after awhile, I found myself getting tired of doing it all the time (because I felt I was getting stuck all the time).  And I stopped. I should reinstate this during revision mode.

I think this dissertation is bad for my health. Nobody tells you this, really. At least, no one told me. I think you should have to submit a physical fitness plan with your project prospectus. New grad school requirement.

Even though I hate gyms, I’m glad I joined the cheap-ass gym. Even if it means that men can silently stare at me rather than cat-call out right and that I’m out of $15 a month. This 10lbs has got to go.