Do you plan to eat broken glass?

I have no delusions of grandeur when I exercise. I am a little pudgier than I prefer, slower than I want to be and far less-attractive than I think I am when I am trying to get in my cardio. I am also sorry to say that I do not crave that workout; it's more of a Herculean task to get to do exercise than the energy I actually expend while exercising. Why? Because, I'm always trying to do "one more thing". I'll toss in one more load of laundry; send one more email; snooze one more time...which means I quickly eat up whatever time I allocated for exercise before the next thing I have to do (usually get to work on time). I also won't confess to a runner's high or adrenaline boost while pounding pavement or pumping iron. I'm usually counting down the minutes until it's over. While perfectly understanding the benefits of the cardio/strength/flexibility holy trifecta and can spout its virtues on a moment's notice...I loath the idea of the action if it's by myself. 

Once I'm committed to activity, I refuse to back away from the challenge and feel greater satisfaction over accomplishing something on my daily "To Do" list rather than the almighty "burn". The achy sensation I feel the next two days after a strong workout (whatever the genre) only annoys me that average activities remind me of the purposeful pain I've inflicted on myself in the name of fitness. I do like the subtle indentations of muscle (hard muscle carves are icky on girls - sorry) that come over consistent effort and I like not huffing and puffing after climbing the stairs at the office in heels. I do like that my heart/lungs/joints/muscles...and many other internal elements gain and maintain health from it all.
Ok, truthfully, I'm a social creature and more importantly, I'm a people-pleaser. If you agree to workout with me, I don't want to let you down. I have no qualms about dismissing solo workout dates with myself - mostly because I feel so damn conspicuous. "No one cares or is looking at you!" I say over and over to myself, but I don't really believe it...don't we all judge each other...just a little bit? So, this brings me to the point: The Gym. Urgh. One lovely benefit I have at work is a discounted gym membership. It's nice to know when I don't go, I don't pay as much. However, I am paying for it, and I shouldn't waste it. I just don't love all the grunting-sweating-thrusting masses. Who dresses up for the gym? Why is that guy wearing flip flops? Why are there two skin tones: pasty and fried? And, I'm sure that someone is, in fact, judging me. Welcome to my neurosis.

What I prefer is a trick. Get me outside, perhaps near water, let me plug in to whatever audio book I'm into and let me go. My favorite is to walk for hours. It's not terribly time-efficient, but maybe the decadence of stealing time is why I like it. Now, if you can add the dressing of a foreign land that I'm exploring, I'll walk until my feet beg for mercy. I like the outside and as it turns out, it's none-too-bad an option. Every non-snow month, I'm usually signed up for at least one outdoor race: 5k, 10k or half marathon. It's outside, it's with a buddy and I usually get a T-shirt or half-melted/heat-wilted food treat at the end. I have collected most of my running bibs and taped them on the inside of my pantry door as some kind of inspiration to...eat less? It doesn't work, but it's still fun to look at what I can do. Now, it's time (a little past) to start my training for my favorite hard thing: the Pink Half Marathon in October. It's all women, it's in Park City and I usually turn it into a mini vacation. It's hard as hell, but so satisfying. When people ask me if I plan to do a full marathon, I look at them as if they asked me if I like to eat broken glass. "What a bizarre question!" Oh well, they don't know any better.