Gun Show, Coming Soon

When asked about their motivation to go to the gym, most people might tell you that it's to stay healthy, get in shape or, perhaps, training to avenge someone. My motivation, however, was peer pressure. Although admittedly, I wasn't terribly resistant either. The conversation went something like this over lunch a couple weeks ago:

Me: What are you guys doing today?
Justin: Chris is going to the gym, and I'm going to go with him.
Me: Why?
Justin: To get in shape. You should come, too if you don't have anything to do.

(I paused, referring to my mental events calendar and realized my schedule was free for the next 3 to 4 months).

Me: Okay.

I then continued to eat my cheeseburger and fries, and washed it down with some ice-cold soda.

Justin and Chris, stunned, looked at me in disbelief--a disbelief that would persist in their minds until I actually showed up later that day, dressed in work-out clothes (sans headband and gloves with the fingertips cut off). To understand the monumentality of this event, we might have to go back to my first and last experience with the gym up to this point: Freshman year at the University of Florida.

My roommate Nick and I once went to the gym early in my Freshman year to try to get in shape. Without going into too much detail, after about a 45 minute workout, we left the gym and I immediately felt nauseated and dizzy. It troubled me that in my efforts to become healthy and fit, I felt sick and weak. And it was at this moment in my life that I came to a very lucid and real conclusion: I hate the gym. Since that point, any efforts of subsequent roommates, my family and my friends to get me to go to the gym has been met with heavy resistance. Some people say, "No pain, no gain." My philosophy became, "No pain, no pain."

Fast forward to mid-September 2007 . . .

I'm unsure exactly why I felt not only open to the idea of going to the gym, but a little eager. Perhaps I am getting more mature and concerned about my well-being and future. Perhaps I realized that at some point, my health will be all I have left and I should take that seriously. Perhaps I considered it a way to improve my self-image and confidence. But more likely, it was because I was bored and had nothing better to do--that, and I can't wait to make reference to my "guns."