The last place I want to go tonight is the gym. I've argued with myself. I've justified not going. I still have a headache (day 3). I've been to the gym 8 of the last 9 days. I don't want to be out until 9pm again when I have to be up at 4am. I'm tired. My elbow still hurts.
I feel like a child claiming to be hungry at bedtime. A child begging for just one more drop of water before being banished to my room where I'll die of hunger and dehydration by morning.
I'm going anyway. I'm not happy about it. I'm dragging myself kicking and screaming, but I'm going.