Body & Pain

I want to join this gym, because it's the most honest name of the game I've ever seen.

It's not a gym.  It's an auto body shop.  The "T" in "PAINT" fell off, and it's never been replaced, turning the shop into a gym I wish I could join - because this gym's name is TRUTH. 

I know what I need to do to fix my body and it is going to involve pain.  I've been eating poorly and sitting a lot for a long time now, and I've got the butt to show for it.  Also the long lost waist and the big boobs that young girls dream of, blobs of fat that I could do without.

I know what I need to do to get healthy.  I've done it many times, many different ways.  I just would rather find an easier, softer way.  Like a car getting repaired.  I want to pull into this BODY & PAIN shop and stay a couple of days and nights.  "Hi, I'm Joanie.  I'd like new bumpers and an extreme body renovation".  I want to be fixed in that BODY & PAIN building with reliable machines that can mold me back into the shape I was before.  I'm not even looking to return to my original model pre-kids; I want to go in the way I am now, and come out a few days later, "good enough".

I don't really know how the autos get their bodies fixed up in that shop.  Do strong, sweaty people polish off the rough edges before spraying shiny new looks on the body?  Sign me up!  That goes right along with my vision: stuff happens to me and I don't have to move.  (There were several different sentences after that one.  They all meant the same thing. I had to delete them.)

 I pass this BODY & PAIN sign every day.  It's like I asked God for a sign, and he flicked the "T" off this one.  THERE'S YOUR SIGN.  If you want the body, you'll have to walk through the pain.

But this pain is going to last more than a couple days.  Sigh.