Last month when I was in Chicago, M. joined the gym near our apartment. He also signed me up. This isn’t a bad thing; it’s just the opposite. Belonging to a gym and actually going is part of our make up. Besides writing about exercise, I actually like to partake in it. Without it, I am not sure I would have survived my divorce, ran a half marathon on a whim, or lost 50 of the 60 pounds I gained during pregnancy. Since we moved back to California, I haphazardly would take walks or go to the track near our house for a workout. Honestly, life seemed a bit harder because exercise wasn’t a regular occurrence.
I have been a gym member for a month and last night was the first time I stepped through the doors. The proverbial seal was broken. It was great. I felt great. And everything seemed right in the world. Except for the fact that I’m a bit out of shape…but not for long.