My entire life, I've thought rest days were for the dead. Today, I am taking a rest day. I have worked out every day for about the last couple weeks... and it's not because I "have" to.. I want to. Running, even on the treadmill, is soothing to me. I can watch tv, listen to music, or listen to the kids fighting about minecraft in the other room.. soothing. But, really, I love the constant repetitive motion of one foot hitting the belt/ground, then the other one. Running calms me. I have depression and some wicked anxiety, that likes to come out of no where... I think running gives me a break from all of that crap. As I get older and have dealt with lupus flares, I am listening to my body. I am still active in my day, sweeping/mopping... just not pounding it out on the treadmill. As I'm typing this, I think this writing could be my outlet for my anxiety today. So much stigma around mental illness... I find, if I talk about it, get it out there, it has less ability to scare me into panic.
A rest day may be good for one day... but that's it for me. Tomorrow, I will be back in my workout room, feet pounding the treadmill... probably listening to PINK (I love pink!)