I am not a gym person. Let’s get that out of the way right off. (What’s a gym person? A person who goes to the gym regularly, obviously.) That doesn’t necessarily mean I can’t become a gym person, but the last time I went to the gym was probably around . . . 14 years ago? Yeah. Not a gym person. I don’t like having to take the time to go someplace special to work out. I don’t like changing clothes. I don’t like locker rooms. Blech.
However, I’m also a person who’s been having more and more issues with my body breaking down. Shoulder pain. Hip pain. Back pain. I mean, I’ve practically lived at my Physical Therapist’s office for months at a time. And the last time I was talking to them, I asked if there was something I should be doing to make it so I could stop breaking down so much.
“Go to the gym. Exercise. Strength train.”
These were not the answers I was looking for. (Ideally it would have been “you’re not eating enough brownies.” Life is full of disappointment.) However, when you have enough things go wrong, you begin to wonder if maybe taking the time to go to the gym would end up saving you time in the long run. (Much like when you don’t have a cavity, you don’t want to go to the dentist, but when your tooth begins to hurt enough, your assessment of that dental visit changes.)
Daniela, on the other hand, is very much a gym person. She goes to the gym after school to work out. Like, she makes a special trip there and everything. (I don’t know where she gets it.) I know myself well, and I knew that if I just thought to myself, “I should go to the gym sometime,” I’d never go. But if I told Daniela I wanted to go to the gym . . .
She dragged me there yesterday.
We didn’t stay a super long time. Just 40 minutes or so. But she showed me the ropes and acted as my personal trainer for the day, and I actually (I don’t believe I’m writing this) had a good time. It helped that I didn’t do so much that now I’m hating life today. I ache, but in a good way. And it really wasn’t that bad. It helped that I changed ahead of time and went right after work, so it didn’t have too big of an impact on my schedule. It also really helped that I was doing it with someone else, so it didn’t feel so . . . solitary and boring.
Will I go to the gym again? Well, my track record says no. However, I’ve made significant changes before in my life, and I’d have to say that for the moment, at least, I’m leaning toward “yes.” Maybe start out with something simple. Twice a week, after work? Something I can do consistently. I’m a creature of habit, after all. If I can somehow convince myself I really am a gym person, then there might be hope for me after all.
We shall see.