Blame It on the Heat

At the end of this, the second week of temps in the high 90s, I finally cracked. At least, that's all I can think of to explain this most unusual behavior. Usually when one thinks of rabies and other end-of-summer diseases, it's frothing at the mouth or stumbling about the town snarling at people that are the headline grabbers. Me? I go wild and join a gym.

Yes, you read that right. I joined a gym, a real one. Well, it will be real in a couple of months. They're in the process of remodeling an old store (which earned them bonus points from me for re-using existing space rather than building something new). The best news is that it's about a half mile from my house. I can walk there. Or, if I break down and buy a bicycle, roll over there within minutes.

I've thought about joining a gym or fitness center before, but I was always afraid that I wouldn't be able to actually do anything once I got there. Now, I know I can get a good workout without looking like a total idiot. Plus, the timing is right. In a couple of months, I should be ready to step down to two trainer sessions a week and begin working out at the gym twice a week. I don't really like to think too much about the day when I'll be on my own, and who knows, maybe I'll win the lottery and be able to stay with my trainers forever, but the reality is that the gym is so much more affordable.

Huh. Me, with a gym membership. Gotta be the heat.