The voices in my head

There's a "good" voice and a "bad" voice constantly talking in my head. It drives me nuts sometimes. Today the conversation about working out went like this:

It can't be 5am already! I just went to sleep. I'm not working out today, I'm too tired!

Get your butt out of bed. Remember, this is how it starts.

But I think I'm getting bronchitis. I have that weird tickle thing in my lungs, like last time.

You didn't cough all night, get up. Now!

Don't wanna!

30 minutes later I'm up

I don't want to go to the gym. So tired. It's too late anyway. I need to go to work early today. No time for the gym.

Okay, but pack your gym bag, you're going after work.

Why? If I'm too tired now I'll be too tired at 6pm.

Pack the bag.

I pack the bag anyway, but stay late at work leaving around 7:30 pm.

I'm so tired, I think I'll just go home.

No, you're going to the gym. It's not up for discussion.

No, I'm going home.

Gym.

Home.

We'll think about it on the way home.

I eat 2 cups of icy cold watermelon chunks left over from my lunch, with my fingers, on the drive home/gym. I drink a whole water bottle of water. I'm starting to feel better.

I feel better, I think I'll go to the gym. I'll get my second wind when I get there and start working out.

Really Diana, don't you want to go home? Don't you feel just a little sick from that cold you had on Sunday? You're so tired. It's hot out, probably hot in the gym too. It's so late, almost 8pm. Go home.

Nope, going to the gym. Shut up about it because you're not going to win this argument.

Seriously, that's how it went today. This is only part of it, the conversation was back and forth all freaking day.

I worked out for an hour and 45 minutes. Great workout even though my beloved StairMaster is still broken. I can barely move my arms they're so tired and already sore from the weights I lifted.

I don't usually have this tough of a time going to the gym. I usually don't even think about it, I just do it. Today there was an inner battle going on inside of me. A fight, me against me.

Perhaps that sounds weird, perhaps I'm really ready for the loony bin, crazytown or whatever you want to call it. Or perhaps I've learned what's best for me, and to ignore that negative, stupid voice in my head that wants me to be lazy and fat again. I don't know who she is or why she thinks she can boss me around, but I think not.