November 20th, 11:27 | Call me shallow but a girl needs a nice shower curtain

So I am now two-thirds of the way through the month, and feeling that I've reached a weird sort of balance, with the eating, and the pseudo-gym-going, and the having quiet downtime, and the novel being somewhat on track. Of course the whole thing is a big lie, or feels that way, because there's also a lot of last-minute stuff I'm throwing together that I really should not be winging. (e.g. this Wednesday's trip to Montreal with presentation for work, that might turn into a two-day affair, holy God, what am I going to say, why haven't I booked my train yet??) If I ignore all that though, and pretend that no one ever has it all really completely figured out, and everyone just kind of fakes it, then I can look around at the plant-filled, finally clean, non-ugly-shower-curtain-having apartment and feel happy and relaxed. It's a good feeling.

As part of the whole "pretending to take this gym-going thing seriously" endeavour, I'd decided that I would incorporate a lot of journalling in my record-keeping, both to keep track of my mental state, and keep myself encouraged as the novelty wears off, as well as to investigate, and duly document my motivations for this whole deal. 'Cause if I don't know why I'm doing it, or if my reasons suck, well then this project isn't going to last long at all, is it?

Why exactly have I suddenly decided that now, finally, is the time for me to be doing stuff that my granola-eating friends have been trying to coax me into for years on years? Is it really because of dragonboat? (Answer: in small part, yes.) Is it because I'm not happy with my appearance (which is the assumption made by most of the girls I've asked thus far for gym-going advice)? And no. At least, not consciously. I'm okay with the way I look; usually my worries centre around things like chunky legs, or ridiculous hair, so my decision to start with the weight-training? Probably not something that's stemming from an unhappiness with my image. Am I worried about my future health? A little. I realize that osteoporosis and weak joints are a big deal, and I'll be sorry later that I didn't do anything during my capricious youth to fight against them but... I'm far too lazy to let that kind of thing really motivate me. A part of it is my rebellion against my waning flexibility. I used to be bendy, you know? Bendy and graceful, and I miss that. I feel it when I dance. It seems a little strange to be hitting the gym, if what I'm really after is increased flexibility, but honestly? Since going, I've been doing more stretching than I had in months before that, and I'm figuring that any day now, with the soreness and the "no seriously, do I have to go down there? that lady on the treadmill is scary", yoga will start looking like the graceful, white swan it is, and lure me back into its gentle waters.

Or maybe I just need to start scheduling that in with everything else, and stop being a sissy. I'm not really sure.

Fate, or something wearing her shoes, is also stepping in, as Workplace has just emailed out a memo about discounted GoodLife memberships. I've been yammering about not knowing what I'm doing (fairly true) and hiring a personal trainer for a couple months (fairly sensible) so that I can learn, and not hurt myself. Thus far, I have not so much as picked up a phone (although I did browse the GoodLife website. I was seduced by their shiny-looking classes (BodyJam? I'm looking at you), which are never at a time when I'd be able to go, but hey. Theoretically they're there for me.)

But yeah, work, with the discounted plan. So I've made a resolution to call up the gym and hash out membership fees and how much trainers cost, and all that jazz. Who knows? By this time next week, your lilephyte might be one of those corporate kids who haul around backpacks full of smelly clothing from their morning craziness at the gym.

What next - a bus pass? I tell you, buying new shower curtains is a bigger lifestyle change than you think...

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