A pre-Hanukkah miracle

I went to the gym tonight.

Trust me when I say that this is a miracle of Maccabean proportions. One that Orrin Hatch could have written a song about.

I have been avoiding the gym for so long that it took me 10 minutes just to find the ellipticals. And when I did, well…it wasn’t pretty. There was heavy breathing. Pain. Perhaps even a side stitch or two. I got my ass kicked by the lamest and easiest piece of equipment at the gym, the one you can almost hear the treadmills scoffing at.

If December 2008 Rachel had been there watching, she would have been extremely disappointed and disturbed. December 2008 Rachel (I can say this now) was in phenomenal shape. December 2008 Rachel went to the gym everyday, as did November 2008 Rachel and October 2008 Rachel and even January 2009 Rachel. She was an avid spinner, a weight-lifting champ (no, not literally, but still), a dance class devotee. In the ultimate sign of physical health, the receptionist at Washington Sports Club knew her name because she scanned her tag so many times.

December 2009 Rachel is another story. She hasn’t just fallen off the wagon, she has hurled her body onto the ground, face first.

Of course, I have my excuses. I injured my knee (I wasn’t kidding about those electrical shocks.) I don’t like the gym in our new neighborhood, with its windowless cramped rooms and weird spin bikes. And, as if I need another deterrent from physical exercise, I actually lost a full dress size once I stopped working out. Seriously. Who am I to argue with that?

I know, in theory, that I’m a much happier person when I’m exercising, burning off some of my energy on a daily (or, baby steps, weekly) basis. I know that it would be a good way to meet people, or at least come into contact with another human being besides Dave once in a while. I know that I’m wasting my money on a six-month membership I rarely use.

But I just can’t get my ass to the gym.

For now, I’m trying not to be that hard on myself, banking on the idea that eventually I’ll just be ready to resume normal physical activity again. I’ll let you know how it goes. Maybe by the time Purim rolls around, I’ll have found my way back to the gym.

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2 Responses

  1. Maybe you should just pick a gym closer to home….oh wait…

    • Haha, touche. I should have mentioned it’s about a block and a half from my house.

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