In January, I Stopped Thinking About It

Despite the fact that I've accomplished a lot and acted on some highly unusual decisions, I'm really not a doer. I'm a planner. I ruminate. I discuss. I consider. When I'm good and ready, I "do." This usually takes months, or years.

In January, I stopped thinking about getting healthy and started doing it. I'm really not sure why. I didn't have an epiphany. I just started.

Actually, it began in December, when I forced myself to go to spin class with Mary -- occasionally. My crotch was so sore, I wanted to cry. And, being out of the habit of exercising, I avoided spin class more often than not.

Then a couple of weeks ago I made more of an effort to go to class. The only reason I showed up to class was because Polly practically begged me to keep it up.

Last week I hired Mary's trainer (the one who helped her prepare for the big Speight's Coast to Coast race in New Zealand I told you about last year) to help me reach my goal: lose half of my body weight by my fortieth birthday (in 2013).

So I'm halfway through my first week with Jeanette and I can honestly say, I feel like crap. I'm in so much pain, it hurts when I brush my teeth. My ass feels like it's on fire and I'm so exhausted, my brain is tired.

But it's okay. I can take it. And even though I feel like walking death, I know I'll still show up for two hours of hell on Tuesday morning.

I may never like it, but I'll show up.

Who knows why I finally committed to this process. The gentle, insistent encouragement from Mary? The worried look on Polly's face? The impending big birthday? The big-ass-in-tiny-theater-seat problem? The stares from strangers? It doesn't really matter. All that matters is, sometime in January, I stopped thinking about getting healthy and started getting healthy.

Happy week, all.