Okay, so it’s not really dirty and it’s hardly a secret.
I don’t really like going to the gym.
I like saying I go to the gym, I like the way I feel afterwards, and I like the idea of being someone who works out. But I don’t love doing it. I don’t spring out of bed to go for a run, and you will certainly never find me at a 5:30 am spin class. I think that I would prefer going in the afternoon, when I’m not dragging myself from bed…but then the weekend rolls around and manage to find other ways to fill my time. Since I joined this gym a year ago, I haven’t been transformed into a hard-bodied supermodel. (Not saying I’m not healthier but that’s a different story.)
This morning, since I had the chance to come into work a little later than usual, I dragged myself to the gym. Haven’t been there in almost a week. I couldn’t face getting on the treadmill so I focused on strength exercises, which are still good but don’t require quite as much psyching-up.
These people did get on the treadmill this morning – and I admire them. (In the foreground is one of my favorite strength machines – I think the exercise is a chest press? I do like that.)
Good for you, runners (and walkers). Hopefully tomorrow I’ll be up there with you.