This time, you decided to really stick to your new year’s resolutions. You finally signed up for the gym, and were determined to work out regularly. You had a positive attitude, and all brand new workout clothes. You figured paying for year-long gym membership, and buying a nice outfit, will serve as additional motivation not to give up.

But once you actually got to the gym, you got very self-conscious all of a sudden. Everyone here looked like they knew what they were doing. You sighed, not sure where to even start. And you wished this place wasn’t so crowded. You were a little chubby, self-conscious about your looks. You didn’t even start working out yet, and you already felt clumsy and out of place.

The room was filled with a smell of sweat, and metallic clanking sounds of the machines. You looked around, searching for any free machines that you could use. “Damn, why is everyone in here so ripped…” you mumbled to yourself. This place had too much muscle for a square meter, even for a gym.

You awkwardly approached one of the machines, sat down, and put your hands on the metal handles. To get yourself started, you tried to mimic how the person working out next to you was doing it. That guy was all glistening with sweat, his muscles taut, and the weight he was lifting was insane. You observed him for a moment, just to know how to use the machine properly. No other reason. You noticed a military task force logo on his sweat-soaked t-shirt. No wonder he was so athletic. You caught yourself staring for a little too long.

You looked away, face flushed, and you started rethinking your life-choices. This was ridiculous. Someone chubby like you had no place working out alongside soldiers and whatnot. Ugh, you felt so stupid.

“Want me to show ya how to do it?” A deep voice with a heavy Scottish accent pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up, the soldier you were observing before now stood in front of you, smiling down at you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle ya… just looked like maybe ya need some help?”