A challenge for the resolutioneers...

So it begins.


It starts with drivers sweeping carefully around the lot. One space opens up, and three cars all put on their blinkers. Icy stares are exchanged, and as the parked SUV begins to back up, everyone else prepares to gun the engine as soon as all is clear. All at once, they dart forward, a small sedan sneaking into the space, the two other drivers hitting the horns in frustration and exchanging hand salutes before heading off for another spot.


It would be pointless to remind them they are trying to park for the purpose of exercise. Hell, it's cold out, and parking spaces are serious business for those already dressed in shorts. There's not a parking space to be found within 1,000 feet of the building. The New Year has again brought its resolutions, and suddenly those extra helpings of stuffing don't seem like such a good idea.


In other words, folks, Black Monday has come. And oh, are they out in force this year.


The Monday after the New Year puts Black Friday to shame. You think people are competitive to get a Wii game? Just watch the speed with which gym-goers new and experienced rush for a vacant treadmill. The scorn of the regulars burns holes through the resolutioneers as the latter paw carefully at unfamiliar machines.


Ad the locker room? Oy. Forget privacy. There's not a single locker not surrounding by 17 people, all of whom seem not wholly concerned with their own nudity.


And this is at 12:30 in the afternoon. Just imagine the chaos that occurs after regular work hours end. After 5 p.m., expect your local gym to be a hive, minus the painful stings and with an excess of spandex.


I get it. Trust me, I understand. I've been a resolutioneer myself, sticking my foot in the shallow end of the exercise pool as I consider whether to wade in. New years bring second chances, just like that sleazy woman told Forrest Gump (before he objected to her tasting like cigarettes). From the time I was about 15 til I was 24, I'd make the annual New Year's Resolution to lose weight, go the gym, and take better care of myself. It would last about two weeks, then it was back on the Twinkee and ice cream diet.


I finally got serious in September 2006. That was when I decided I was ready, and then followed through, to the tune where I now consider myself a regular. I see the same faces every day, and while I'm not exactly the most social of rats, I have the feeling a few of the staff members now know my name without having to check the computer screen.


It's a scary transition. The gym is an intimidating place, filled with some people that don't appear to take kindly to strangers. But it's worth it, I promise.


Yet the statistics say that most of the resolutioneers will be gone by March. My trainer (yes, I took the leap) told me that only about 90 percent of the people who sign up in January are gone within two months. They shed enough weight to look good in a bikini or Speedo (which is a lie: Nobody looks good in a Speedo), or they take off what they put on during the holidays, and then it's "well, see you next winter!" Or, they give up. I've been that guy plenty of times, so I don't begrudge anyone for deciding the gym isn't for them.


And yet, since I became a regular, I've been much happier. Endorphins are a delightful thing, and no matter how tired I am when I leave the gym, I always feel better than I did when I got there.


So here's my challenge to the resolutioneers: do it for real this time. True, it wasn't until I combined my routine with Weight Watchers that I started to really see results, but to be able to turn to exercise instead of food as a means of relieving stress is fantastic. I've stuck it out for more than three years now, and I'll continue to push. And I promise I won't smirk or roll my eyes when you ask someone how to use a machine.


That is, as long as you wipe your sweat off the machine when you are done. Forgetting to do that is just lame.