Speaking of self-confidence, I paid for a gym membership yesterday. I’ve done this before, maybe eight or nine times over the past many years. I never quite get my money’s worth. Sometimes I’ll even pay months and months of fees just for the knowledge that I potentially could go the gym. This is king of like how my bike purchase has turned out.
And I even have a decent free gym at work. But it’s completely unrealistic to expect that, after 20 years of not being a morning person, I suddenly will become one. It’s not open late. It’s not open on weekends. And I’m still at work. So I’ve paid for a gym membership. I shall go. I shall go and stay for more than 20 minutes. And I shall not use going to the gym as an excuse to eat Randy’s Pizza twice a week.
Starting last Tuesday and continuing indefinitely, every Tuesday and Thursday (my non-dialysis days) will include at least one of the following activities:
This seems like a simple plan to get moving and do something I enjoy. It’s anything but. How I get through a five-day work week now with 12 hours of dialysis screwing up three of the five days is beyond me. Some weeks, I simply don’t. And for this reason, I’ll never save up a week of vacation days to go on a much-needed extended trip. My new activities could energize me to the point of making the rest of the week a breeze. Or they could exhaust me to the point of collapse.
Like Red says, Get busy living, or get busy dying.
Why that picture? It’s Florence Henderson, and she’s lovely, so STFU.