Going to the Y–A Forcefield Versus Whatever the Day May Bring

The difference between starting the day with a work-out and just slogging my way to the office is striking.  When I spend time on the eliptical getting a sweat on, and do some weights and some Nautilus, it makes the whole day just glow. I am stunned by how great it feels, yet I still find reasons not go to, or decide that it’s too late, or any of a million other reasons.

I am particularly enamored of the place where I work out, the Holyoke Y.  Have you ever been to a club where there are super giant guys in muscle shirts, or overly tatooed fellows hogging all of the space in front of the mirrors as they lift gargantuan weights? Well none of those people are members of the Y, at least not the one I go to.  Instead it’s all regular people, admittedly, a little old (like me) and nobody ever has an attitude or casts any aspersions toward another. It’s like we’re all in our own little bubbles, and each bubble glides by the other with respect.

There’s never a line, you never have to wait for a machine, and when you first get there the front desk staff always says hello. They sometimes remember my name too, which is especially nice.

So no matter what happens today–fuses blown, bills due, staff out sick, advertisers can’t pay—no matter what I’ll walk into the office with a full head of steam and it will carry me through whatever comes at me.  OK, no more waiting, it’s time to work out!