Facing Fear: The Gym

Earlier today, I realized how much I've been grieving for running. I only did it a few months, but I had already fallen in love. I loved the time by myself, I loved being away from my computer, I loved following my own schedule, and I especially loved being outside and feeling connected to the world. I thought about ignoring my doctor and continuing to run, but my friends wisely reeled me back. Now I'm resigned to life without running, but I'm not over the loss.

Later today, I joined the local YMCA. My doctor recommended swimming as an alternative to running, and I've always wanted to use the fancy cardio and weight room machines. It cost more money than I should have spent, but I did it. It's a gift to myself, one that I've been putting off for far too long.

Only… I am afraid of gyms.

I had previously signed up for a guest pass and then never gone. I went with my workout clothes, walked around to all the rooms, and then fled with my tail between my legs. I kind of understand the fear. I've never belonged to a gym before, none of my partners have ever belonged to gyms, and I simply don't know the logistics and etiquette. Unlike martial arts, you don't get to start as a white belt. You have to already know how to do everything. (I can sign up to have someone show me the weight machines. Will it look dorky if I bring a notebook and take notes?)

Anyway, there it is. I bought goggles for swimming, my workout clothes are ready. I'm determined to do this, regardless of how much irrational fear I feel. Please, hit me with whatever advice you've got — the more practical and specific, the better.