I made it through another Monday. Came home - tried to watch the news and read but that only spells heavy eyes. Hey, I've only been up since 4:30am. So I grabbed a blanket, went back on the recliner and napped. After I awoke, I realized how chilly I still was under the blanket and found I had no heat. The old boiler (I think I have the only one left in town) plus the three radiators that remain were cold. I have a friend coming to fix it. Something about gas, disconnecting, reconnecting makes me nervous.

I pride myself in trying most things and not being afraid. I learned after running my first marathon that I could do ANYTHING when I put my mind to it. I was crazy enough to do the Chicago Polar Plunge recently. But I have come to the conclusion that I have Gymphobia. I went with Jared (17) TWO WEEKS AGO and signed up at a nearby gym. Until that night I had never stepped foot in a gym. I was amazed at all the equipment and the whole layout. Jared has gone a few times now with a buddy who is also a member and gives him a lift. Jared has plans to join the marines like two of his brothers before him and he wants to get in shape - gives him some assurance he can survive bootcamp. I HAVE YET TO GO. For years I have worked out in the comfort of my own home, in front of the TV with my own personal trainer, Denise Austin. I love her, though the kids think she is kinda scary - something about the eyes and her pep. Gee, I like her because she reminds me of ME. Makes me wonder what my kids really think of me. With Denise, I learn a routine - good for my memory skills. I huff & puff, work every section of my body. I'm going to have a rock-hard stomach, a sexy cleveage and everyone is going to notice the last thing that leaves the room - my nice rear end. At the end of each workout she tells me I DID GREAT! So why can't I suit up and march into that gym and work out. One, do I have the right outfits - the styles these days - there is no reason not to look good while you're sweating. The equipment - too much to choose from and no idea how to manipulate the weights. And the people - they'll all be watching me. Well, probably not. I have run on the trails, peed in the woods, ran with thousands of people through the streets of Chicago (try Chicago's marathon). And I've done it with style, strength, determination, pride and success. So where are my guts to be able to walk into that gym. I must have left it somewhere in the woods.