I've gone to the gym THREE times in the past 7 days (it would have been four, but some information on hours wasn't quite accurate).
I LIKE it!
Here's the thing. I've been enjoying the cup-of-green-tea-each-day regimen enough. I've been liking being more intentional about what I'm eating. And, the gym has TVs tuned to HGTV, ESPN and a political network covering the confirmation hearings. I can quite literally run my way through commercials and time my sweating to a 30-minute episode.
So far, this is shaping up to some pretty happy me-time. Plus, I got a few new workout pieces in that it's-the-2nd-week-of-January-and-everyone-is-over-their-resolutions-so-now-workout-clothes-are-on-clearance time. They're all nice and soft yet. Which I enjoy.
Plus, there aren't too many unfairly-physiqued 19-year olds with their perky ponytails and neon tennis shoes bopping around the place at the times that I've been going, at least so far. In fact yesterday, several of whom must be fellow faculty/staff members eventually joined me, and we middle-agedly jogged/stepped/pulled on our respective machines in less toned unity.
I've got a sushi-for-one lunch planned at the end of the month for some incentive and drive. Sushi plus a month of the Property Brothers on closed captioning sounds like some pretty good ways to take care of my mid-30s self.
That age doesn't seem quite right, somehow. But then again, I just admitted that it happies me to read a T.V. show about home renovation while on a treadmill, so I guess mid-30s I sure am.