Lazy Bones

I can do hard things but I don't want to.

Right now, I am feeling lazy. There is no great pull towards the outdoors, no spring in my step, no physical goal in mind to work towards. When I am not working, I want to be curled up somewhere cosy, I want hot drinks and sweet things and books that do not require me to think.

I have, historically, chastised myself for being a Lazy Person, which, as anyone who knows me can testify, is categorically untrue. I once wrote a book, ran a marathon, moved house and got married within the same four month period and I vividly remember reclining in the bath after a long day of surviving off adrenaline and Fanta Zero and thinking, ‘you are wasting time.’

I know why I’m like this, this is not therapy and you, dear reader, are certainly not my therapist, you pay me for gods sake! I will simply say, I am trying to change my relationship to the concept of laziness. I am trying to learn that I do not exist to be productive, that busyness is not morally superior to inactivity. I do not have to show the result of my days on a spreadsheet.

As Devon Price wrote in his book Laziness Does Not Exist - ‘The human body is so incredible at signalling when it needs something. But we have all learned to ignore those signals as much as possible because they're a threat to our productivity and our focus at work.’

I will not be a better person for running ten miles when I’m tired rather than sitting on the sofa and watching The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

Even as I read that sentence, I don’t believe it. But I want to and maybe that is half the battle.

(Full disclosure: I switched off Episode Three of the reunion to write this which I believe displays monumental strength and dedication.)

With all that said, I absolutely cannot deny that I am running a half marathon in four weeks, one that I was excited about and now just makes me feel a bit sick. I don’t have to do it, obviously. But I did pay *REDACTED* to take part and everyone keeps telling me how fun it will be on the day which, I accept, is probably true.

The solution then, to my inconveniently timed incline toward laziness? What to do when my legs feel heavy because my brain doesn’t want to move? I do it anyway, or I mix it up. I run slowly listening to audiobooks, I go to HIIT classes where I have to lift things and push things and high five people. And then go home, and curl up on the sofa and read books and eat chocolate and wait for the motivation to return, because it will, it always does. And until then, I will try to enjoy this sloth-like state, because this always returns too and I don’t want to fight it. Frankly, I can’t be bothered.