I’m Gonna Be Sore Tomorrow

Tonight I had my first real workout since December. I’d injured myself in a little quad accident on my vacation and have not been able to exercise, aside from doing the treadmill here and there.

I enjoy going to the gym. I love the way the music pumps me up, the adrenaline rush I get in aerobics classes. I like the way I feel when I’m certain I can’t lift that weight one more time and I grunt and groan and strain (although I try not to because I just know I’ll walk out of there with wrinkles all over my face) and finally lift it and then, my muscle fails.

I love the way I feel after a good workout, how proud I am that I pushed myself like I did and how I’m certain I’ve lost 10lbs. and feel like such hot stuff, till I get to the locker room mirror.

I even love the ritual of going to the gym. I get my little exercise outfit on and I cram “my girls” so tight into the sports bra it looks like I’m hiding a ferret under my shirt. I lace up my shoes, grab my music, my water and go.

The gym is my alone time, it’s my time for me.

If I love it soo much, why is it so hard for me to get motivated to go in the first place?

I wish I knew.



  1. Hate the gym. The laundromat is the place to be. And what the hell is BiW doing muscling in on my pervert territory?

  2. He has some nerve huh?

  3. Yeah. He doesn’t even have pics on his blog…

  4. Them’s fightin’ words.

  5. The gym is the perfect MY TIME kind of place.

  6. huh, i didn’t think they let you go to the gym while at the psych ward. interesting. -is it hard to work out with a straightjacket on?

  7. Hi Lover! You inspire me…well the “work out” part. -I will continue to pour glorious pasturized milk on my Lucky Charms.

  8. …why is it so hard for me to get motivated to go in the first place?

    Word. All I have to do is change clothes and hop in an elevator after work and BAM I’m in a brand-spanking new gym with all the latest stuff. And yet…

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