“Courage is being scared to death — and saddling up anyway.” — John Wayne
Walking into a gym full of incredibly fit people is probably one the biggest vulnerabilities of my life.
I feel exposed. I’m wearing my issues for everyone to see.
I recently paid a visit to a large fitness chain, and before I could inhale to say three words, three people approached me.
I had the script laid out in my mind: I’m looking for a personal trainer.
One of the associates asked me to follow her to her desk. As we sat, I took in my environment; the music blared with an intense repetitive rhythm, people were standing around talking casually, and one lone soul was giving it her all on a treadmill.
The associate’s desk was in complete disarray, papers were scattered everywhere, and there were a series of crumbs that led to a half eaten muffin.
At my protest, she took my personal information. “It’s just to get you in our system so we can start your tour,” she assured me between bites of her muffin.
Sure… and Candy Land is an actual place, lady.
I decided to be a good sport and go along for the ride. You never know, I thought, maybe I could learn something new.
I did. I learned what I didn’t want.
I realized that she wasn’t hearing me. She too had her own agenda and was looking for a sale. I, however, was looking for accountability. I knew it wasn’t going to work.
So I left.
It wasn’t the muffin’s fault.
Surprisingly a day later, I found a fitness boot camp with personal trainers in proximity to my home.
While it’s hard enough to look at something that you really want to do and muster up the courage to get started; it’s another thing to have done something, lose your way and then find the courage to start again.
And so I’m back.
Back to working out.
Back to actively writing again (I had a terrible bout of writer’s block).
Back on track.