Last Saturday I went to a local Lifetime Fitness and got a seven-day pass to see if maybe working out at the gym would help me get off the couch and hopefully stay out of depression. When I went on Saturday night and went on the treadmill for 20 minutes I felt pretty good, except I broke down and started crying in the locker room afterwards. I was doing something new, what would Dan say? I know he would have encouraged me, then made some comment about how he "needs to do something about that, too", maybe gone on the stationary bike for a few days, then we both would have fallen off the horse and into our old habits.

I tried going again tonight. After doing another 20 minutes on the treadmill, I broke down even worse in the locker room, and the only thing that kept me from collapsing into a sobbing heap was the mortification of doing that in a public place. I felt guilty. Guilty that I was thinking of spending money so I could walk on a treadmill, when I have two dogs at home who would love to go on walks with me. Guilty that I was trying something new. Guilty that I was going on with my life. Guilty that I noticed there were guys at the gym. The mindless "Oh, he's kinda cute" that used to flash through my head unnoticed for 17 years is suddenly a cause for intense, crippling guilt. I noticed cute guys when Dan and I were together, just as he noticed cute girls. It was no big deal, nothing more "meaningful" than noticing a pretty bird or a good-looking sports car. But now when I think it, I feel horrible.

I think I'm just not ready. But I worry that I could easily use that excuse as a "reason" to not exercise at all, and I don't want to do that. I may just be having a bad day, so I'm going to try to give the gym one more try before I give up on it. If nothing else, a friend of mine has offered me some sort of elliptical thing that her mother no longer uses.

I tried finding an individual therapist again today, but so far all the ones I've called aren't taking new patients.