The workout didn’t go as I’d planned.

This one had been called 30 four 30. You started off with hitting an assault bike to rack up 30 calories. Then, you did 30 box jumps on a 24-inch box, followed by a 30-calorie row on a rowing machine.

Finally, you had to do 30 pushups.

Four exercises you did over and over for 30 minutes.

I got through three rounds, but during the first round, coming off the assault bike, my legs were numb. Jumping up on top of the 24-inch box hadn’t been stable. I’d nearly tripped over the thing. So, I adjusted the box, flipped it on its side and made the height 20 inches.

I could do that, but I was still slow… so, slow and I hated that I hadn’t gotten farther in the half hour.

And this was a hard cardio workout. I thought I had a better handle on that, but my heart pounded. My head felt like it was swelling and sweat soaked through my shirt.

I wanted to sit down.

A year ago, before the hernia surgery, I think I’d have done a lot better. I wouldn’t feel like I’d failed somewhere.

Still, failure or not, this was also progress.

This was my third consecutive day at the gym –a modest victory and maybe a break in my slump. I’d been in a real slump for months.

Friends tell me that I’m a mess in January and February. I withdraw and get a little moody –nothing especially dangerous, but I take things harder. I tend to listen to the bummer songs on my playlist a little more often than I ought to, but the moodiness is kind of learned.

Winter setbacks are pretty regularly for me and this year was no exception.

Over the past couple of months, I wound up with several steep repair bills. A gas line had to be replaced. A car needed new brakes and a headlight. After six years of being free of meds, I had to go back on pills to treat hypertension and high blood pressure.

Endless anxiety and a slight bump in my weight had apparently gotten to me.

I was also becoming very acquainted with a dental office.

There were money issues, not to mention real concerns about my job.

As I spun out over these very mundane, but also very engrossing problems, I got wrapped up in my own head. As the temperatures dropped and the ice crusted up over the sidewalk, my training fell behind and I spent a lot of time on my couch. I slacked off on maintaining a regular running schedule and didn’t complete the Charleston Winter Series I’d signed on for.

For most of February, I was only getting to the gym maybe twice a week.

I needed to do something. So, I began changing things up a couple of weeks ago. I let myself off the hook (at least temporarily) on getting out the front door in time to train. I went back to working out at the gym after work while I tried to untangle my mornings.

Three workouts in a row is a modest accomplishment, but it felt like a reset to me, like I’d gone back to how things were in 2019, back when I was trying to find my way, trying to drop some pounds and also get to the starting line of a Spartan race.

Wasn’t that the way, though? Wasn’t that what I wanted to do, anyway?

I thought so.

To little victories…