Oh, man, 2008. How did that happen?

I rolled over Going Nowhere which will be the sixth year now of, uh, going nowhere. Yep, that would be me--aimless, yet disturbingly consistent.

I didn't make my 500 miles last year, but came achingly close. CRAP, that ticks me off. So why do this when I've failed two years in a row? Well, because it helps keep me aware of just what kind of job I'm doing in trying to take care of myself.

It's very easy to let taking care of yourself slide to the bottom of the hamper o' life, under those really, really smelly socks you just don't want to deal with. Is it just me, or does it seem as if there are a bazillion things To Do Right Now, all of them very important, all of them very necessary?

I find myself prioritizing and before I know it, there I am on the couch glassily staring at the latest reality show (and really, who isn't absorbed by the train wreck which is Miss America?) feeling vaguely tired, maybe a bit sad, and with a muffin top starting to form over the top of my jeans.

Time to nip this foolishness in the bud right this minute.

Going Nowhere keeps me honest. It reminds me that I haven't moved my aging carcass as much as I need to, just as my strength training log forces me to acknowledge that I haven't been challenging myself with the iron, either. I would probably need a food log, too, if it wasn't for the fact that the spousal unit's cholesterol issues have forced me to completely re-arrange how we eat.

How sad is it that I'll work harder at keeping him healthy than I will at taking care of myself?

So that's my basic new year's resolution. Take better care of myself. I hate the way I feel right now, the dropping energy levels, the way I'm so easily discouraged. I know a lot of this has to do with a lack of endorphins, and I know exactly how to get those endorphins.

Yep, intellectually, I know fitness is a life time commitment. Emotionally? Haven't been there for a while.

In happier news, I have nagged persuaded my new gym that they most definitely need a squat rack and a pull up station. At first I used subtle, verbal persuasion, pointing out that these two bits of equipment would make the gym infinitely more attractive to men.

At this gym there are three women for every man. There's definitely room to grow the male membership.

When I didn't feel that my verbal arguments were getting anywhere, I began improvising ways around the lack of these two bits of vital equipment. I suspect that at least one of my improvisations makes the trainer and the owner see the words Massive Public Liability Payment flashing in neon over my head.

The new equipment is supposed to show up by the end of this week.

I am dizzy with anticipation.

--Marn