Okay okay okay.


I don't waaaaaaaaaaannaaaaaaaaaaaaaa go to the gym.


I'm struggling HARD with the first step. I know me, and I know that once I go at least 3 times, I'm fine. But. My gym anxiety is getting the better of me right now, and that's dumb.

Part of it is timing-- first of the year, all the resolutioners are thick with good intentions and dripping all over my preferred elliptical. My gym plays the BBC on ONE TV in the morning, so sometimes I get to watch Dr. Who re-runs and that totally makes everything worth it.

Most of it is me-- I'm a big scaredy cat. There's so many people with their eyes that can see me. Doing things. Things that are hard for me, that I'm kinda embarrassed-- nope, super embarrasssed about being hard.


So all week I have set myself up for failure so I can talk myself out of going to the gym in the morning before work. You know, not getting my workout clothes ready, not packing my post-workout clothes, not setting 15 alarms to annoy me into getting up, not packing my daughter's lunch the night before or getting her clothes ready. All of it. And I know it. I am not even doing it SUB conciously.

So! Here goes.

Tomorrow, I am going. I am putting this here, in words, for you to read and see. (Hi!) Tomorrow, I will go to the gym and then I will come here and tell you about how awful it was, but I will have gone and done the hardest part of this whole deal-- start.

Bee Tee Dubs, I'm totally stomping my inner petulant dieter feet all over the place.