It takes a great deal of preparation and careful planning to go to the gym. You can’t just jump into it all willy-nilly and expect things to turn out okay. What if you forget something? Or your timing is off? Or you’re not fully organized? Things will go horribly wrong and you’ll end up breaking every bone in your body and then where will that get you? Nowhere, and fast. Especially nowhere near the gym.
So I like to think of these weeks (cough, month, cough) that I haven’t been at the gym as time well-spent, gearing up, getting ready to go, arming myself against all eventualities in a mental and spiritual way, paving the path for the physical eventualities that occur in situations of extreme cardiovascular efforts, because can the body work if the mind and spirit is not on board? No it certainly can not. I really ought to be some kind of fancy guru on a silken pillow.
And now, it is go time! My membership number came through to me, from human resources, and I have for myself a place at the Fancygym, which is filled with fanciness and a pool and very nice showers and lots of equipment and hopefully a lack of undergraduates in tiny little shorts, though I am sure that deficit will be made up for in hot, highlighted, breast-implanted marketing executives in tiny little tank tops.
But don’t let that fool you into thinking that I am not fully prepared to go the distance and dive back into the wonderful world of daily exercise for fun and fitness! I am ready to go! I bought myself a gym bag which is very attractive and well-balanced, with many cunningly placed pockets in which to keep all the essentials. I made a list of essentials I will need. It is not a very long list. It goes: gym stuff. I am hoping elaboration will occur at some point, either inside or outside my head. In my mind, I have pinpointed all of the places where my gym clothes have scattered to–my sneakers are in the closet, and hopefully have not been peed on by the cat. The pants are still in the hamper (why do I need to wash them if I am not wearing them? That is Environmentally Conscious of me), the T-shirt in the dresser drawer with all my miscellaneous items (leg warmers, swimsuits, scarves) and the sports bra is in my desk drawer. Please do not concern yourself with the reasons.
will assemble these items shortly, into my fancy new bag, and I will be
packed and ready to go to the gym, the location of which I have already
picked out, after hours of careful study of the Fancygym website. You
see, it has about 1,300 locations within two square miles, so making a
selection was a difficult and time-consuming chore. I had to examine
each of the locations’ facility photographs very carefully, make a note
of potential group exercise classes which occurred at times at which I
might possibly be somewhere near the studio, make a note of the
geographic position and altitude of each location (I hate hills) and
calculate the likelihood of a high percentage of coworkers appearing,
poof, like a horrible dream, in the middle of my heart attack on the
treadmill. It was a very math-intensive several weeks, there, so you
can see why it is so good I have taken this time.
selecting my preliminary Home Base, further time was needed in order to
carefully craft a schedule of activities with which I would achieve
Maximum Fitness. But first I had to backtrack, in order to define for
myself exactly what constituted Fitness at the most Maximum of levels.
Would I require the services of a personal trainer? Did I need to
create a list of Goals and Objectives? Was there a time limit, and if
so, what would that deadline be? These were all very important
questions to be asked, and care and time was taken in making sure they
were answered appropriately.
the schedule. It went through several iterations, some of them
crazypants (go to the gym at lunch time just to catch a Cardio Kick
class? You are out of your mind, and additionally, out of your mind.
Because you know as well as I do that you are not going to any
Cardio Kick class, honey, okay? Okay.). Then, I came to conclusions. I
sat back and admired my realistic schedule. Promptly I lost my mind,
wrote in a little "Saturday" and "Sunday" and scheduled myself for
weekend exercising. And then, I totally took myself seriously,
apparently, because I pulled off a fresh Post-It, and wrote out the
schedule very neatly and with all seriousness, then posted it on my
computer monitor. Where I have been admiring it all week.
am ready! Mentally prepared, schedule in hand, realistic expectations
awoken and guilt dialed way down in case I do not achieve my schedule
in its entirety. Where is the guilt, however, for not yet having my gym
bag packed and waiting at the door for me? Why didn’t I set my alarm
for 7:00 tomorrow, instead of 9:30?
I need more time! Maybe I’m going to go ahead and pack that gym bag,
because good morning, sunshine: the statute of willy-nilly has
officially run out.