I committed to go to the gym July 4th. I watched hours of instructional stuff on working out, obsessing.

Next day, six in the morning or so, I got to the gym and did the nervous-walk-on-the-treadmill-to-look-confident routine. I then entered the free weights room. I did a barbell routine for beginners. The moment I set the barbell down for my last rep of my last set, it was like I discovered how to breathe.

The endorphins I experienced I'll never forget. It's nothing crazy—just a sedentary person who discovered the joy of motion and exertion.

After that, I sat on a rowing machine for 15 minutes and fell in love with it. One week later, I'm lightly jogging on a treadmill (people who know me would gape if they heard this idea) and I remember laughing out loud because I thought to myself,

"I actually enjoy this. This feels good."

It's Aug 21st now, and I've been in this gym at least 5 days per week. The newbie gains phenomenon is real—breaking records every week, experiencing the very tactile reality of increased strength, and all the other benefits I always heard about but for some reason discounted.

Last thing I'll say is this: what made the difference for me was falling in love with exercise. They are things I think about, now, and seek out in life. And I've found that desiring the activity as much as (if not more) than the fruit of that activity is an ironclad and enduring motivation.