The Gym

I've been meaning to go to the gym for the past twenty-five years.

Oh, I've joined. Lots of times. I just never actually go there on a regular basis.

The first gym I joined was in downtown Austin next to the bank where I worked. I figured I'd go there since it would be so convenient. I did actually go there about a dozen times. Mary Lou Retton worked out at the same facility which was really humiliating. She was like a hummingbird on crystal meth, madly pumping on a set of weights then buzzing to the next and the next.

Meanwhile, I'd be staring at the leg press, trying to figure out how to work the damn thing.

I've probably spent more energy in getting out of a gym membership than I did actually using one.

I don't like working out, mainly for one reason: It hurts!!

I know, I know. No-pain-no-gain and all that.
But my philisophy is, "No pain? - - - - hey! No pain!"

But I'm at the age now where I really need to work out. Not just because I'll look better, but it's now a health issue. I now have a nice job, a nice place to live, wonderful friends, a blue Cuisinart, and I want to be around to enjoy these things for as long as I can.

Wouldn't you know it? I finally get my head together and my ass falls apart!

There's a Crunch Fitness actually located in the lobby of my apartment building. I wouldn't even have to go outside to go there. And we, as residents, get a half-price membership. (They now offer dodgeball for adults which sends shivers of horror down my spine. I don't think I'll be doing that). I could even go there at 9:00 PM each night when no one else is around to actually see me stare at the machines, wondering what to do.

But each night at 9:00 PM, I'm usually on the couch watching my "Geek TV." You know, the National Geographic Channel, the Science Channel, the Discovery Channel. If there's a documentary about conjoined twins, or a new planet, or Bigfoot, I am there!

Man, I gotta get to the gym. . . .