I'll tell you what I've done. I've joined the Y.
It all started with my sister. On New Year's Day, of all days, she emailed my other sisters and me, and she suggested we form a family support group to help each other lose weight. Our plan is to weigh in at the end of every month and report our losses (we'll never have to give our exact weight unless we want to), or we can focus on measurements and report lost inches instead of pounds.
At the end of six months, we'll meet up somewhere for a celebratory weekend away. One sister lives near Chicago, and the other two live near Atlanta, so we'll choose a place in the middle...or Maui.
So, I am back on track with paying attention to what I eat and drink, and I have joined the Y. My first day there is today, and I am actually about to leave the house for an initial workout. I'm nervous in new situations and am not wild about walking into that big room full of machines and weights and treadmills when I don't know what's going on. I have belonged to a gym before, so the stuff isn't new to me, but this particular room is.
I know I'll figure it out, and in a few days I'll feel comfortable there. But this first day is the killer.
Here I go.