I don't want to go to my gym anymore. I know I've gone over this.
But here is why...in detail...
I hate it. I hate the meatheads and the slutty girls with their stupid half shirts who only pretend to work out, who I secretly and spitefully hope will someday be fat, divorced housewives. I hate the "trainers" that all look like they just spent two hours getting ready for a frat party and are ready at a moment's notice to shotgun a Power Aide. I hate waiting for machines, where crazy anorexic girls are overworking themselves to no fruitful end. And I hate looking at the stained, leaking ceiling. Worst of all...it's just way too far away for me to even consider going anymore. I know you've all seen the price of gas.
It's not because I'm unmotivated or lazy or tired. It's because I'm bitter. I hate that I've had to go for the last two years and I hate that I even have to pay for it. They should pay ME.
How did I get into this mess, you ask? A moment of pure, weak, instant gratification. I wanted the Stairmaster and I wanted it 5 minutes ago. I wanted to make changes and lose weight and get toned and let off some steam and all those crappy good intentions. In truth, I HATE working out there. I hate getting home from work and knowing I have to leave again, only to go to some shithole with no pool and cracked windows.
What I love is the way I feel afterward. The satisfaction, the exhaustion, the whole soaking in my own sweat thing. But these things do not, in anyway, outweigh the overall feeling of dread I'm met with every time I even think about making the trek over there.
So I've decided that I'll only go when I really have the time or when I'm feeling charitable. Then when my membership runs out in October, I'm off to somewhere so much better. I don't know where and I don't care what the cost is. If anything, this whole experience has taught me that proximity and aesthetics is something I'm willing to get milked for.
And as ridiculously happy as I am right now, I'm tickled to know that I can still access the inner bitch.