I made my triumphant return to the gym today. I haven't gone to the gym in well over a month. I have been using Tamoxifen and my ladytimes as an excuse not to go. I don't feel good. Or: I'm tired. Those are my two main excuses whenever I make the decision to not go to the gym. Tamoxifen, as well as hypothryoidism, have royally screwed up my sleeping pattern so most mornings, it takes me a long time, and a lot of clock management (10 more minutes and then I'll get up) to finally get out of bed.
Despite not going to the gym, I have been walking Boomer at least twice a day. She's quite the workout, too. Whenever we walk somebody who shows the slightest bit of interest in her, she goes nuts and wants to jump all over the person. Preventing a 75-pound dog from jumping on a complete stranger takes a lot out of me. The regular walks are good for her and me. She needs the exercise just as much as I do.
My only exercise routine cannot be two 20-minute dog walks a day. That's not enough. Countless studies have shown that regular exercise and weight training will not only help minimize the side effects (like fatigue, weight gain, depression and/or insomnia), it helps reduce my risk of a reoccurrence or developing a new primary cancer. It gives me a feeling like I can do something to stay healthy and strong. If I can get my butt into the gym one more time this week, then I'll be a happy camper and feel like I'm taking control of my life once again.