Running on a Treadmill

I am at the stage now, where I’m in the Chronic Denial stage of my Gym Membership. I so totally go to the gym regularly and it’s so totally worth my $70/month because like, I’m so totally uber fit and active and hell and I have abs of steel and my arse fits perfectly into my new jeans. Hmmmm.

I’m so totally struggling to lie to myself on this one.

I went about three weeks ago, and even that was a bit of a blip on the radar.

I am into Gym. I enjoy it when I go, and I get a kick out of being sweaty and healthy and I love that feeling like I’ve burned all those nasty calories, so now there’s a calorie debt that I need to fill by driving straight out of the Gym and straigh through a Macca’s Drive-Through. That feeling of debt is fantastic, until I fall fast asleep in a Carb Coma from too much fake hamburger.

I need to get back into the gym but I find myself coming up with the stupidest excuses.

Tonight, my excuse was “The weather is too bad – it’s pissing it down, so I’d better go home and keep dry.”

Because all the treadmills aren’t in a nice warm dry enclosed space, but they’re all actually outside in the weather where I’m going to be running along listening to my iPod getting totally soaked to the bone.

Bollocks. I am officially kicking my own arse.

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