Over the past few years things have changed...physically.
When I worked at Menards, I usually walked about 10,000 steps each day I was at the store. I would sit down in the evening, but even still, I would be out in the garden & mowing in the summer or shoveling regularly in the winter.
Flash forward four years, and my days are spent sitting on the couch. I walk from the bedroom to the couch. During the day I regularly get up from the couch and go to the fridge for something to eat or drink. Clearly you can see that there's a complete lack of movement every single day. That means a lot has changed physically.
Sigh...the stacks of clothing I now have that don't fit me is much larger than the ones that do. Last year it was a decent stack. This year I added to it.
The number on the scale doesn't lie though. The number isn't always a true statement as to someone's health. People would look at me and think, "nothing wrong with her," "that's not a bad number." If I were active and eating well, and my weight went up, I wouldn't really worry about it. Unfortunately, the changes in my body and how I feel tells me that something needs to change.
I had reached out to a few gyms to see if I could work with them, but sadly only heard back from one, but they don't work with bloggers. What to do, what to do.
I guess it's time to workout.
I've talked several times with a manager at a gym, and I'm planning on joining. Planning. I haven't done it yet. Isn't committing the hardest part? Maybe walking through the front door is the hardest part? Possibly going back the second, third, and consecutive times is the hardest part?
I wonder sometimes if I've gotten to the end of my rope truly with how poorly things are going with my body. Do I really want to try to be healthier? Do I really want to put in the effort? Do I really want to give up the time it'll take to workout several days a week?
When I'm getting changes or standing on a doctor's scale, it's a resounding, "YES!" When I'm sitting at home watching Downton Abbey (streaming it on Amazon) eating a popsicle, it's a mediocre, "yea!" I do and I don't want to commit to going to the gym.
I wish there was a weight fairy who would sprinkle fairy dust on me and I would be in shape. I wish I could wake up in the morning and just have a raging desire to get on the treadmill that's become a coat hanger. I wish I hadn't sat around for so long that my body has physically changed in drastic ways. I can wish in one hand and spit in the other to see which fills up first.
So far I haven't responded to the gym manager's latest email to me answering questions I had about the facility. I have plenty of excuses as to why I haven't: I've been painting the first floor since last Saturday, I'm going out of town next week for work and won't have the gym nearby, and mostly that I think I'm sure to fail and won't ever actually commit to it. I don't know how to look at this commitment with excitement or positivity. I fear everything that could go wrong with a workout and a gym, and that's what drives me...or keeps me sitting on the couch.
Maybe today's the day. Strike while the iron's hot. There's no sign up fee this month, and it's month to month so no contract. It's affordable mostly. January's the time for change, right? So let's take this working out business by the horns and see how it all pans out!