A Choice to Change

It’s a strange feeling when you finally decide to work out again. My wife and I woke up at 4:55 AM, before the alarm, and asked in darkness, “Should we go work out?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m so tired. I hate showering at that nasty gym.”

Then we laid there for five minutes more, holding and enjoying the shared moment of peace and bodily comfort, before the alarm announced our good intention of working out before work. Snooze.
“Should we work out?”
“I don’t know. Should we?”

Silence.

“Should we work out?”And the skipping mp3 continued: hold each other in comfort for nine minutes more, alarm, snooze, ask the questions laden with guilt and hope for a better body, silence…

At 5:27, the cycle repeated, followed by a plea bargain, “We could walk for 20 minutes today. We just need to walk more anyway.”

Silence, except this time, my wife reached over and blinded me with the lamp’s hideous fire. I cringed and clenched my eyelids, fighting off the impending alertness, which aimed to melt away my drowsy peace. She has made the decision for us… today. Mu-wahahahaha!

Why is it so difficult when we know it’s so good for us? It’s not like we haven’t gone on the workout kick before and lost 20-35 pounds through months of dedication and diet. We know we can, but it’s that requisite, initial decision to make that commitment which causes the bedroom-alarm-clock dance. A choice to change.

Who can blame us? It’s ridiculously early, and we don’t like our new gym. We actually like certain locations better, but this particular Bally’s on 55th and 6th is most convenient to our day jobs. We loved New York Sports Club during high times, and miss it now, but there’s no way we can afford that without knowing for sure that I will even have a consistent day job. Summer’s over and vacations will be less, so as a temporary worker, a floater, I am not guaranteed work. So how can we plan and be responsible without knowing.

But who out there ever really knows anyway? I’ve never been a planner, always priding myself on spontaneity, carpe diem, and living life to its fullest. When facing up to my financial past, I initially balked and avoided calling up the Bill People, leaving that fearful task to my wife. I eventually chose to take some of the burden off of her and participate in my own, our own, financial life. But I had to make a choice. Now I see the big picture, and will not shirk my responsibilities. I’ll ask for help, but I won’t ignore and avoid them any longer… good for me!

It’s a tough choice to make. Well, any hard choice requires mulling over, but somehow, some way – it’s unclear to me why certain choices are made – the right choice for the right time will happen. And I’m all the better for it, for now.

The choice to help Julie rose out of her exhaustion from her workload, lack of sleep, ongoing stress of money and not having a consistent performing gig. My general love for her and wanting to make her happy also had some effect, no matter how minute. As I witnessed my damsel suffering, the burly, masculine hero decided to take over, and I grabbed the bills out of her hand and made the calls myself. Impressive.

Now, we share that responsibility, although, she is much better at budgeting than me. I’m working on it and learning the way. I’m a long way from clubbing ‘til 9am, to hear Paul Van Dyk spinning at Twilo. No longer closing down bars, we choose to have a couple drinks only, maybe three if we’re feeling cuckoo crazy. Wow, wild ones.

But I like our choices. I don’t have to feel like I’m keeping up with my younger brother, who is 8 ½ years my junior. I’m done with my twenties, and the twenties’ lifestyle is done with me. The road of excess, leads to some golden, shimmering tower of, what was it, oh, wisdom or something.

So my next wise choice, earned by experience and gratitude for life, will come at an inopportune time when an unforeseen, barren crossroads arises. I’ll look down one end to find a cul-de-sac. The other side will be a YouTube account, and I’ll choose to upload my face onto the great abyss, with hopes of hits and grandeur. Then I’ll go work out.