Bank Holiday Syndrome

As usual for bank holidays, T'Other has to work. At least it was a 12 – 8 shift, so we got to laze about this morning and I could pretend for a few hours that it was going to be a proper bank holiday. But now T'Other is slaving away over a hot radio show, and I am looking at my 'to do' list with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. Oh wherefore art thou, motivation?
I need to be fitter. One of the barriers to getting fitter – other than sheer laziness which is, I'll admit, quite a big barrier – is that my right ankle is rather weak. It has been for years after a spate of twists, sprains and turns left it vulnerable to more twists, sprains and turns. Walking in heels almost always results in a turned ankle now.
So, after learning about wobble boards from my friend Vince, I finally got myself one on Saturday. If you don't know what a wobble board is (or a balance board, as they are also called), then a simple explanation shall hopefully suffice: They are a circular board with a section of a sphere underneath upon which you attempt to stand. The effort at balancing should, in theory, help strengthen ankles – and I'm hoping it will do something nice to my proprioceptors too. I can already feel it making my leg muscles work harder than they normally do (which is, normally, not very hard at all. I mean, how many muscles does it take to slump on a couch?). So, 5 mins every hour on the wobble board for me when working from home.
The thing also came with a DVD that's so awfully hippy-dippy-Californian-looking that I can't bear to watch it, so I am undoubtedly missing out on a whole host of interesting ways to get fit using this new-fangled wobbler.
I also bought an exercise mat so that I can start doing Pilates again.
Less said about that, the better.
Also bought T'Other a set of weights for his birthday. He's now officially a happy bunny, as he is back running again after some considerable time away, and can work out at home again. Thus does he remain the gorgeously buff creature he is, and I get to look at my podge and wonder if I can work up enough emotional oomph to actually start putting a bit more effort in.
See… it's a conflict of interests, really. On the one hand, my 'to do' list is infinitely expansible. On the other hand, the number of waking hours in the day are not. So I spend as much time thinking that I should be doing something as I spend doing it, and any time when I'm not at least even thinking about when I'm going to start doing something seems like some sort of work-ethic blasphemy.
[Ok… time for a 5 min wobble. BRB.]
Right, back… What was I saying? Oh yeah… Procrastination + workload = excuse to be lazy.
It is, of course, a catch 22 situation. The fitter you are, and the more exercise you take, the more energy you have and the more work you get done. But yet, the number and breadth of excuses I can come up with to convince myself that tomorrow would make the perfect start date for any new exercise regime is startling. Strangely, that habit annoys even me. I wish I could be more like T'Other, who positively loves exercise.
Anyway, today is a bank holiday and I refuse to feel guilty for not working. I am absolutely not. Going. To. Feel. Guilty.
Absolutely not.
Not guilty.
Feck.
Bastard 'to do' list.