The first date that almost happened

Yesterday, after a delicious, healthy, farm-raised, organic brunch with my friend, I decided to go with her to look at the gym she was joining. This was after she'd asked if I belonged to a gym, and I responded with wild suspicion and paranoia that she had overheard conversations I had with my sister about how I should join a gym. Let me just get this out there: I hate exercise. I don't get a runner's high. I don't like competing with myself on the treadmill. I am not driven by the pure, unadulterated joy of endorphins, and I don't believe everyone can run a marathon. I mean if you're training for a marathon, I believe you can do it, just not that I can or should. This might be because I am not from an intensely athletic family and was not raised to enjoy the spirit of competition... It might be because I'm kind of nerdy, and did better at the brain-based competitions like math contests than I did at the sports-based competitions. I don't know. It might be just that I'm lazy and I don't like being sweaty. Anyway, so I went to this gym with my friend, and it's pretty cheap. And I need a gym, you know, so I can go work out and be healthy and not be lazy. So I toured the gym, which had a lady's workout area for "religious reasons or something," said the salesman. Hmm okay. And a fancy free weight room, with weights up to 125. The five pound ones make my arms quake in terror. The selling point for me was the cinema workout room: movie on the big screen, lots of cardio machines, and it's too dark for me to see the other people running faster and/or looking more coordinated than me. I have often compared my running gait to a wounded water buffalo so the fewer people that can see that the better. So then all of a sudden we're sitting at the tables being presented with price packages; $59.99 with the "all you can tan" option. Perfect! Or $24.99 for the bare bones membership... sounds good to me; not so expensive that I can't convince myself it's okay to skip a day here and there. So I'm all ready to say, great, I'll think about it (i.e., stall another two months) and it happened so fast and it was a deal that was only occurring that day and if I didn't do that it was going to be one million dollars a month and so here, sign here, on the dotted line. I read the fine print of the contract: I am in violation of gym rules if I (a) have body odor or (b) do anabolic steroids. Good to know. So then they try to schedule me for a personal trainer consultation. At this point I'm so far outside of my comfort zone. I haven't gotten to ruminate on the gym membership at all, I just impetuously signed up. And now I have to meet a personal trainer?? I took his card and promised I'd call... in a month, when I worked through my motivational issues and decided the gym would be a good place to meet a man friend (I mean get in really good shape so I can lead a long and healthy life). And so now it's today, and there were four missed calls on my phone from an unknown number. So I answer it, finally, and it's the personal trainer from the gym. He says, "Oh, hi, I'm just giving you a call to see if you want to schedule your initial consultation." I say, "Umm, sure. Let me just check my very important and busy schedule." He says, "I am here tonight. What time do you want to come in?" Stop! Too fast! Slow down buddy! I get so flustered and randomly pick 7 pm. He tells me, ok, make sure you don't eat for an hour before and we'll do your orientation session. Which sounds suspiciously like a trick. I'm not ready to work out. Don't these people understand joining their crazy gym was a big step?? I 100% bailed out on my personal training session tonight. But I at least called to cancel, and told him I got stuck at work which was a big fat lie. But I totally promise I will consider going to the gym tomorrow. Maybe.