“New Year. New You.”

That’s just one of the slogans that arrived in my inbox this January. As a consumer of all things positive and motivational, my inbox is overfull with trainings and offers. I’m tempted to sign up for all of them and take a week of vacation time to immerse myself in all things Tony Robbins. One look at my calendar—I still carry around a big spiral-bound notebook—and I realize I can’t do it. So, I pick one … I’m joining the gym.

Going to the gym was first a part of my life in the 1980s. And this was only for one reason—the outfits were fantastic! In the eighties and into the nineties, we all wore body suits with tights and scrunchy leg warmers à la Jane Fonda and Olivia Newton-John in that wonderful movie Physical. And don’t forget the headbands! I loved all of it. The tennis shoes were huge—I don’t know how we marched, or should I say danced, around the room without tripping on those fat rubber soles and poofy shoelaces. Picking out an outfit for the gym was much more fun than actually going to the gym.

Selecting an activity based on an outfit is a pattern for me. I took tennis lessons for years. Have you seen the cute skirts and tops? Hello! And the accessories … scarves, visors, and, of course, the essential tennis bracelet. Every Friday, four of us would meet and run around on the court, looking fabulous. I was never any good at tennis. I got tennis elbow almost immediately, so I played with my left hand, and it didn’t make much difference. On days when one of our foursome was absent, one of the club members played with us. One guy in particular always seemed to be available. He must have been 100 years old! Even so, he still outplayed all of us.

When I took up road cycling, I faced a real dilemma. Cycling would be a great low-impact aerobic exercise, but the bike shorts look and feel like a giant diaper. However, after only one ride without the padded shorts, I no longer cared how ridiculous they made my derriere look.

So here we are … new year, new me … and I’m looking at my collection of gym clothes and finding it lacking. Not to mention that the styles have changed! Where are the body suits and matching leg warmers? I attempted to involve my husband in an impromptu gym clothes fashion show in our living room. Things got a little—weird!—when he suggested I try out some of the gym moves so he could see how the clothes looked in action. Yes, he was making fun of me. I fall for it every time.

It took hours to select the outfit for my first day back in the gym. However, I’ve heard of older women who just don’t care—they walk out the door any way they damn well please. Can you even imagine?

And now, I need to find a cap that will match my new outfit and cover my gray roots. Truth is, I’m exhausted from this exercise.