Although the year 2019 ended on a sour note, there is one thing I can remember about that year that was positive and welcoming. It’s the fact that I went to the gym at least three times a week (usually only those three times, but with a few exceptions to the rule) every week all year, no matter the circumstances. I mention this because the year 2020 has started and I’ve already failed in continuing my gym streak. I won’t be able to say in January 2021 that I went to the gym at least three times a week every week, because I failed to uphold the streak on the first week of 2020.
Now, I wouldn’t exactly say it’s my fault that that happened. Circumstances arose that made it impossible for me to get to the gym, and I didn’t have the available equipment to continue the streak in the way I would have wanted to. Something wonderful about my previous living space was the accessibility of the gym; it was literally right across from our apartment, so I had no excuse but to go. I know I’ve mentioned this on the blog before, but it’s worth repeating because it really may have changed my life and let me live a more healthy lifestyle. I worry a bit about the person I might become here, if I’ll be as motivated to step out of my comfort zone and go to a more public gym. I did it once or twice in the past but it won’t be the same.
Regardless, this blog post was supposed to be about mourning the streak itself. I wish it didn’t end how it did, because I’ll almost always remember it as having a sour, miserable end. Sometimes I just wish things had turned out a bit differently.