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One of my resolutions after my son was born was a commitment to fitness. Before I became pregnant, I could have cared less about going to work out on a regular basis. Now I’ve got reasons, to set a good example for my son, to stay healthy, and to help me feel comfortable in my skin.

But, just because I drag myself to the gym doesn’t mean that I enjoy it. It’s a vulnerable and anxiety provoking experience for me. Typically, just getting in the building is hardest part. It’s gotten easier though.

Most weeks I leave right after work, bringing my trusty old gym back, dutifully packed with the necessities. I like the walk in to the gym in my work clothes. I feel most confident in my professional attire, like people are less likely to mess with me or something. But, it does add the additional tricky element of having to change in the women’s locker room.

Thankfully there is a changing area with a curtain so I don’t have to put myself through the incredibly exposed scenario of having to change my clothes in front of strangers. My OCD knows damn well how filthy the floor of the locker room must be so I’ve trying to devise the most efficient, least contamination method for preparing for working out.

The curtained changing area benefits others as well. To put someone through the almost certain awkward hell it is to watch my poorly thought out transitions from my work clothes to my gym clothes whilst avoiding touching the filthy floor is not something I’d wish on anyone, let alone some random stranger.

But soon I’m ready to go, with my ipod and earbuds in. I have a good workout playlist, although it’s going through some revisions. I like to start out a little slow on the elliptical machine, working through a higher resistance to shake out the muscles a bit. Then I pick up the tempo to high energy music, bonus points for silly lyrics or anything that let’s me bounce around like a total idiot.

I’m well aware of my behavior, but it’s the only way I can really get a workout and not totally hate it. So, yeah, there’s probably some vines or random videos people may have taken of the crazy white lady bopping around at the YMCA. Maybe. Whatever.

I can’t argue with the results, though. After about 30 minutes of cardio, I feel invincible. Sometimes, I’ll hit the weight machines if I’ve got more time. But because my husband’s usually home watching our son, I try not to keep them waiting.