I Cried at the Gym

Weeping Woman By: Picasso

It's true.  I cried at the gym yesterday.  Not for reasons you might think.  I've signed up with a local family-owned gym that has a whole different attitude and approach to things...they ask you personal questions, they forewarn you that they will harass you when you don't show up for your work out and they give much needed hand-holding and explaining of the equipment for free...I don't have to pay for a trainer (woohoo).  AND once I'm comfortable with the equipment, I get a key and passcode (the gym is 24 hours a day!). Part of the signing up process required me to give them an honest-to-the-corp reason for signing on...why am I there...not "to get in shape"...but WHY do I want to get in shape?

Well, you know me... (maybe you don't) but I've never been one to hold back on personal stuff - so when someone asks a personal question they tend to get a damn honest answer.  My answer to why am I getting in shape?  Why now?  Was this:  "Well, I'll be 40 next year.  My youngest son is just 1 year old.  Well, 2 years old in March.  If you do the math ... if I don't start taking care of myself I may not be around to see him get married and at even greater risk of not being around when those grand-babies arrive."  That unexpectedly choked me up when I started talking about my own mortality out loud.  Choked me up big time.  The tears sprung out of my eyes so fast that it was like an unplugged damn.  I was mortified.  Luckily, Joy, the product of hippie parents and frankly a bit of a hippy herself was not bothered at all.  She took it in stride, offered a tissue and said - I think I've got my ammo for making you get yourself back in the gym the day you disappear on us.

I think this could be the beginning of something good.