Back on the Treadmill Again

No, I'm not referring to my job, which starts again in a week or so.  I'm referring to the actual treadmill.  For reasons which I shall choose not to examine too closely, I just up and quit going to the gym back before my trip to Barcelona in May.  Every Sunday night, I would say to myself "Yeah... this week I'll go back to the gym."  And every week, not only didn't I go, but I didn't really even seriously consider going.  I've been living a land of dreamy, restful denial.

It's not like for all the years I've been going every day, I was ever making great advances toward becoming athletic or anything.  I was just holding my own against the constant weight gain that is the lot of the menopausal.  At this time in the life of the female body, you either live in a constant state of mild hunger or you steadily and slowly edge toward chubbiness.  And that's what I've been doing.  And not really that slowly.  So today when Dave, who is training for a triathlon, mentioned that he was heading down to do some cardio, I said "yeah, me too."  No one was more surprised than I was when I said it.  I guess it was just time.

Next challenge:  making it two in a row.