one - number of months since I have done any significant cardiovascular exercise
two - number of days (minimal) I need to work out per week in order to elevate my mood to a bearable level
three - number of times a week I need to practice yoga in order to center my mind
six - number of pizzas I have ordered over the previous ten days (keep in mind that two of those days I couldn't order pizza even if I wanted to--darned Christians and their pervasive holiday...)
nineteen - number of days since I last practiced yoga
thirty-five - number of dollars per month to maintain a YMCA membership
unknown - number of pounds I have gained since I fell out of my fitness routine
For the past week, Kenny and I have dutifully been making plans to go to the gym and summarily breaking them. I was listening to a psychologist on the radio this evening and she had said that, with the onset of freezing weather and lack of sunlight, it is our instinct to not do the things we would regularly do in order to keep ourselves fit. Instead, we tend to sleep. Which makes sense, considering the whole winter hibernation thing.
Recently, I read a story Malcolm Gladwell relayed in Outliers about certain European farmers who would, once the frigid weather arrived, literally all crowd into bed together for warmth and simply sleep the winter away. As that isn't realistic in today's modern society, the previously mentioned psychologist advised that we need to force ourselves to do what our biology attempts to circumvent--that is, go to the freaking gym anyway. Just buckle down and move, which is what I plan on doing...tomorrow.