Driving By the Gym is Bad for My Health

There’s a gym that sits right next to a road that I drive on just about every day. Which means I have to see *those* people exercising nearly every single day. The worst is when the light is red and I’m forced to sit there, right next to them, all facing one direction, bobbing up and down like an army of turkeys. I’ll happen to glance over, only to see several bobbing turkeys looking back at me, eyes silently mocking me as I take a bite of my bagel with extra cream cheese.

I’ve decided that the placement of this gym is bad for my health for multiple reasons. For one, it’s not healthy for me to drive by on my way to work since it fills me with anger. What are you doing in a gym, people? For real, you have an illness.

It’s not healthy for me to drive by the gym on my way back home since it fills me with guilt. What are you doing in a gym, people? Don’t you have dinner to make? Why on earth are you exercising right now? Get treatment.

It wears on me, this day in, day out attack on the senses. And it reminds me how long it has been since I’ve done any regular exercise (exact time would be: age of oldest child + 8 months).

Inside, I know that I should be exercising beyond taking the stairs at work (which nearly does me in every single day). I remember, vaguely, the feeling of well-being I used to have from exercising regularly.

Yet, that was back when I didn’t have children filling up every moment of my free time, back when getting enough hours of sleep each night wasn’t top on my “Things I Must Do In Order Not to Implode” List.

Perhaps one day, I will manage to find the time and the will required to start exercising again. Until then, would you crazies at the neighborhood gym stop mocking me? Or at least draw the shades, for crying out loud.