Y ME

Well, I've done it. I made myself go back to the gym. After at least a couple months' hiatus, I'm taking it slow in the beginning. I'm making myself keep a Monday/Wednesday/Friday routine. Eventually, I'll work back up to four or five days a week, but I keep telling myself that baby steps is the way to go for now.

In my hiatus from all things fitness, I've had time to think. Lots of time. Time to see people in the world around me--some who work out regularly, some who obviously don't. While yes, I'd love to have a firm, toned and chiseled body that men and women alike would drool over, I somehow don't see that happening. I'm not sure I have the dedication that kind of transformation would require. Of course, stranger things have happened. I suppose I'll be happy if I can lose
a few pounds, tone up somewhat and maintain optimal mental and
physical health.

I just don't see myself being one of those muscle studs you find gracing the covers of fitness magazines, no matter how hard I try. Maybe I should set out to prove myself wrong.

Here's my confession: I joined the Y nearly six years ago as for Lent. I pushed myself to workout five days a week whether I wanted to or not. I wish I had that kind of drive and willpower now. I wouldn't say I have a weight problem now, in fact most people tell me I look the best I've ever looked. Granted, they haven't seen me without my shirt on to see the extra lbs I'm carrying around.

With the transformations in other areas of my life, perhaps pushing myself physically at the gym can't be a bad thing, right? It's all about wing , truly motivated and pushing forward. It will require focus and dedication that I'm sure are just lying dormant somewhere deep down, probably underneath one of these rolls of fat that is about to melt away!