I Started Going to the Gym. Again.

A movie quote pops into my head quite often:

“I work out… like… two or three times a year.”

It makes me laugh every single time because it describes me suspiciously well.

I’ve always been naturally lazy when it comes to working out. You couldn’t drag me to the gym if you tried. I’d much rather embrace my fat ass status than spend 45 minutes sweating on a treadmill.

This year, I’ve managed exactly one trip to the gym. 😅 I lasted about 30 minutes, completely lost interest, and went straight back home.

Achievement unlocked.

Still, one of the goals on my list this year was to commit to at least one month of gym membership. So I figured this was the perfect time to give it another shot.

Probably for the last time.

How do you choose a gym when you have absolutely no motivation?

I did a bit of research until I found a gym that seemed like a good fit. Then I looked back at all my failed attempts over the years and came to one very simple conclusion:

The gym wasn’t the problem.

I was.

So this time, I decided I needed a personal trainer.

Not just any trainer.

Someone strict enough not to let me negotiate my way out of workouts, and 💪 enough that I’d actually do every exercise without complaining too much. The kind of trainer who makes you look forward to your next session.

I think I found him.

On a Friday (because, obviously, who starts going to the gym on a Friday? 😄), we met for the first time. It took me about five minutes to realize he was exactly what I had been looking for.

Our conversation went something like this:

Him: “Alright, let’s do Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Me: “How about Mondays and Thursdays?”

Him: “Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Me: “Okay… but I don’t run on treadmills.”

He looked at me for a second, slightly confused, probably trying to figure out what treadmills had to do with scheduling. Then he smiled and said we’d work something out.

Now all that’s left is to wait for Tuesday.

I’m curious to see what the workouts will be like, whether I’ll survive the first session, and, most importantly, whether, a month from now, I’ll be writing about my progress… or about how my gym membership ended up joining the collection of all my previous failed attempts.