you can do whatever you feel!

My friend, Julie, has a membership at the Y. A group of her friends meet there every morning to exercise. Julie's a little crazy. Apparently, her group is competing with other groups at the Y in some kind of cult exercise contest. Julie's group would get 50 extra points if she could hornswaggle a friend to join the group in their quest for fitness. Guess who the sucker was that she convinced to get up early and join her for a round of torture? Yup. Me.

I fully anticipated meeting a nice group of interesting people at the Y. Nope. Just a group of premenopausal women. Lucky me.

Maybe Jillian would be there, screaming at me to "get up!" and ultimately, making me vomit!

Nope. Not even Bob was there to cajole me into inspired exercise. I did meet a nice young man, our trainer Jay. But he's no match for this group of middle-aged women. By the end of our hour of torture, the hormonal women were barking orders at him, poor soul. I don't know if he kept looking at his watch to time our exercise, or in anticipation of our hour expiring and us leaving.

What kept me going was my anticipation of leaving the Y, looking like a famous model. Christie Brinkley would be just fine.

Nope. I still look like Maxine and gravity is still working against me.