Quite simply, gym guilt is annoying

I go to the gym often. Maybe too often. Today, I thought I'd take the night off and not go to the gym. But gym guilt quickly set in.

I try to avoid gym guilt. I really do, but it is hard to ignore. Take this morning for instance. I told myself that I wouldn't go to the gym because I had gone on Saturday, Sunday and Monday. Self replied, saying fine, but why not?

Oh, that darn question. It hangs in the air, waiting to be answered. It won't be ignored.

Me: Why not? I said. Good question. Because I've gone for the last three days.

Self: Yes, I realize that you've gone for the last three days, but why not go tonight? Not like you have anything important to do. The way I see it you have two choices: drag your butt to the gym or sit on your butt. Your choice. And let me remind you, something may come up tomorrow night and you may not be able to go. Plus, the holidays have arrived. You can afford to go an extra night.

Me: But I want to sit on my butt and watch Coronation Street.

Self: Like I said, your choice.

Ah, your choice. As if I have a choice. Almost always, gym guilt slowly eats away at my resolve not to go to the gym. Sure, at 9 a.m. I may resolve not to go to the gym, but by 1 p.m. I'm wavering and by 4:30 p.m. I'm assembling my gym bag and waiting for dear husband to come home so I can head out the door.

Ah, gym guilt. It gets me every time.