So I did it. I officially belong to this gym.
I still have some wiggle room on my Y membership before my next billing cycle, but I’m planning on breaking up with them in the next couple days. It’s not them, it’s me. Except it’s totally them.
I laid out an obscene — not as obscene as it could have been or probably will be in the future, but still — amount of money, broke down and bought some personal training sessions. Most of the guys at this place are MMA trainers. They don’t fuck around.
Waiting for my new trainer to call me and schedule our first appointment. I haven’t met him yet but I googled his ass and holy shitballs. He’s the real deal.
I’m filled with equal parts excitement and sheer, unadulterated, white hot terror. Okay, maybe more terror than excitement. But good terror. Is that an oxymoron?
Or maybe I’m just a moron.
Mother of crap, what have I gotten myself into?
