Because I'm All About the Torture.

Hubs and I joined a gym yesterday. We have been contemplating joining said gym for a little over 2 years. We think about what we want for dinner for about 0.2 seconds, but joining a gym takes over 2 years.

See a problem?

Enter: gym. Time to correct the problem.

We're committed for a year. We signed the contract. We paid the "Assessment Fee." We're in.

Then they asked up to sign up for our 1st Assessment time. Did you catch that? First one. There will be more.

Anyway, mine is today. I'm contemplating skipping it to go get a root canal or visit the OBGYN, because I'm sure either of them will be more fun.

Here's what "The First Assessment" includes...

1. Body Fat Assessment. I get to wear a one piece bathing suit (oh good. Glad they clarified that. I might've showed up in my thong. How embarrassing that would be.) and have a really skinny, rock hard person not only look at my fat, but pinch it, measure it, and write notes about it. Can't. Wait.
2. Flexibility Assessment. I have no idea how they're gonna do this, but I can't imagine that it's comfortable. Can't. Wait.
3. Strength Assessment. I should ace this one. I carry around toddlers all the time. I ain't scared of this one.
4. Cardio Assessment. This is where I get to walk/run on a treadmill while the same skinny, rock hard person stares at me. Since my cardio for the last oh 7 years has included the occasional walk in the neighborhood, climbing the 2 flights of stairs in my house numerous times, and catching kids as they come down a slide, I'm sure there will be sweating, breathing hard, not breathing at all, a red face, and potential death. All while being watched, monitored, and written about on the clip board. Can't. Wait.

Then I get to sit, sweaty and out of breath, while she tells me that I'm fat and outta shape. Clearly she spends her free time as a rocket scientist and a brain surgeon. Genius.

However, in the spirit of getting healthy so I can be around for my great-grandkids' weddings, I'll endure it. The torture is welcomed.

Now, let me go put on my gym clothes. Oh wait. I don't own any. Gotta put that on my list of stuff to get, because even though I might pass out on the treadmill, but I'm gonna look good doing it.

A girl's got her priorities.