Thursday, February 3, 2011

A Girl, A Gym, and A Mission

It's no surprise to many that I do not work out, nor do I do anything that slighting resembles working out. I do not hide it, but I am not proud of it either. Laziness is just so much more comfy to me than activity as it relates to weights, treadmills, etc... Watching TV at night is like changing into sweatpants after being in stuffy dress pants (aka, the gym) after a long day. And you better believe that I'll chose the sweatpants every single time. It's just who I am, sadly.

All of the above being said, I'm tired of always choosing the sweats. Seriously, I'm 32 and in good health and naturally slim (by the grace of God), but there is nothing tone about this chica, and that I can no longer live with. So, what to do about it? Put on my big girl pants and march myself to the gym. Which I did for the first time last night. Literally. I literally walked to the gym and back. Did you actually just hear the angels singing and the seas parting? I did.

When my roommate asked "do you want to just walk to the gym for our workout?" I almost laughed, shouted "are you nuts", and opened a bag of chips. But instead I said "okay". Ladies and gents, I WALKED to the gym. In the dark mind you. Then I worked out for about 30 min, and walked back. What, what! Bring it, folks who drove the gym!

Am I sore today? No. Does that scare me for what may hit tomorrow? Dear Lord, yes. But I survived and feel really great about myself. Granted I did trip in a hole, thanks to walking along the shoulder of a 1.5 mile road in the dark with cars flying by, and I also walked into a bush and caught my hand on a splinter bush, but I did it.

So here's to this girl, a gym, and a mission to tone and trade in the sweats. Or at least trade them in until after I work out after work. Let's not get all crazy here.

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