In my wallet, I carry an old photo I.D. It was my old gym I.D. circa 2000. I carry it to remind me how skinny I used to be. Once in a while, I whip it out and contemplate doing crystal meth again. Not that I condone the use of methamphetamine. But it does get me to as small as a size 4... women's... petite. Good times, good times.
I have realized that ever year, as my birthday approaches, I get slightly more obsessed with not becoming the fat kid that I was. Unfortunately, this need to attend the gym coincides with the entire world going back to the gym. So, for my two weeks of obsession, I have to deal with every lazy ass returning to the gym. There was a line, 9 people long, for a treadmill, on Monday. It was so frustrating. So, I got on the bike, did 20 minutes, then hopped on a treadmill for 15 minutes.
I can't wait until they all leave again. Like in about a week. Later.