I thought for sure that posting about my workoutlessness was going to finally motivate me to get back into the gym.  Apparently I severely underestimated the amount of mutual love and attraction that my ass and my couch have for each other.  Their love affair is as outrageous as it is unstoppable.

But I have a plan of attack!  You see, for the last two days I have fooled myself into thinking that Lo!  I can come home from work, grab my gym garb, then leave again!  But deep down I know that means that I’m Not Going To The Gym.  Because I have no self control or will power in this particular area of my life.  Neither inspiration nor competition, neither public shame nor humiliation can separate my butt cheeks from the couch once they have the chance to unite.  So tonight I’m thinking ahead.  I’m packing my gym back with my work clothes and setting my gym clothes out the night before.  I’m setting my alarm for 5:15 and with any luck, my friends, I’m going to get this gym crap out of the way in the morning.  Before I have a chance to do any more luscious, irresistible sitting.