Why is it that when you are finally in the mindset to get to the gym, you face a million unnecessary obstacles that you only encounter when you're actually in dire need to sweat (for the first time in days? Months? Years? Whatever; first time in a really, really long time).

You know you've been there. You polished off a pint of good ol' Ben & Jerry's after dinner, and immediately after putting your spoon down you make the executive decision to do an hour and a half of cardio tomorrow morning. It's all downhill from there... 

Step One: The night before, you set an alarm for an obscenely early time. 

Step Two: You stay up until two watching a Netflix documentary on some thing you never knew you cared about until that very moment. 

Step Three: You go down and get a snack once the documentary finishes; Oreos, double-chocolate fudge ice cream, take it all in. After 2:15, you are a human vacuum and the calories don’t really count. 

Step Four:Finally crawl into bed and turn off your bedside lamp; the time has come... you have to go to sleep. 

Step Five: You forgot that really important thing that you need at that very moment on the other side of the house and you just have to go and get it. So go. 

Step Six: Why is your house so dark? It’s practically a breeding ground for serial killers and ghosts and all those things you thought you finally grew out of. You have to go back to your room and get your phone, aka flashlight. You’re the real MVP, Apple. Saving lives every day via flashlight. 

Step Seven: You tweet about how inconsiderate your parents are for leaving no lights on anywhere in the house. Like, how could they do that? Then you get distracted by that account with the adorable puppies, and you forget all about that thing you needed. 

Step Eight: Finally, you get to bed. 

Step Nine: You wake up 12 minutes before your alarm is supposed to go off (the worst) and roll your eyes because you’re so exhausted and there’s no way you’re getting up in 12 minutes.

Step Ten: You set your alarm back a half hour and crawl back into your peaceful slumber. 

Step Eleven: Your alarm goes off. How was that a half hour? Why must you lie to me, phone alarm? You hit snooze. It must’ve taken you longer than you thought to fall back asleep. 

Step Twelve: Once again, your alarm goes off, but you can’t find it within you to get out of bed just yet. Instead you meander through every form of social media you can think of. You glance over every possible tweet you could’ve missed while you were sleeping, examine each and every Instagram picture posted, and then move over to Facebook. Anything to stretch your time in bed before facing the harsh reality that is the gym.

Step Thirteen: You finally get up, put on your work out attire, attempting to look as cute as possible, and start moving out the door. Once you’re in the car ready to pull out of the garage, you realize you left your headphones and water bottle inside on the counter. You go back in, and hop back your car. 

Step Fourteen: You're playing with your radio when you realize.... how did your gas get that low!? You filled it up three and a half weeks ago, how in the world is your gas light on? 

Step Fifteen: So, you stop at the gas station by your house. You run into every friend you’ve ever had, and even some parents. It turns into a half hour affair. 

Step Sixteen: Could it be? Is it really happening? You are finally on the road headed to the gym. You’re crossing your fingers, wishing on every star there ever was that you have overcome every potential obstacle blocking you from the gym. 

Step Seventeen: You hit every red light. 

Step Eighteen: You pull into the gym parking lot, wondering what else could possibly go wrong at this point. You really can’t believe you even left bed for this nonsense, and it’s taking every ounce of will power you have to step inside the front door to the gym. 

Step Nineteen: You swipe in, already thinking about the Chipotle burrito you’re going to have when you finish. You’ve learned that a little motivation goes a long way. 

Step Twenty: After stepping onto the treadmill (finally), ignoring the old man in short spandex shorts running at an unnecessary fast pace next to you (there’s always one of them), you realize, to your dismay, that your phone is almost dead. And you cannot by any means run without music. You finally give up and head home, defeated. Better luck next time, champ.