Thursday, November 22, 2007
I have three gym memberships. That's three memberships I've paid for. That's three gyms I don't go to. The first gym is my fancy gym. It's so fancy, it's actually called a Tennis Club as in, "I'll see you at the club!" and "Let's have lunch at the club." It also has a bar WHICH MAKES NO SENSE TO ME!!! It was L, my partner in crime, who beat me out of the locker room one day and I found sitting out on the patio (It's a Club, of course it has a patio!) drinking an Amstel Light. At 3:30pm! After a workout! Well, it would have been rude if I didn't, too. It would make her feel bad. And I do not like people feeling bad.
Okay, my second gym membership, aka the skanky gym, is so close, I pass it everyday on my way to the grocery store, dry cleaners, coffee shop and library. (IT'S LIKE IT'S TAUNTING ME!) I say skanky because after you have been spoiled by FANCY GYM with towel service, a steam room, SHAMPOO, CONDITONER & BODY WASH and a cute guy that wipes your sweat off the ellipital and brings you razors (and would probably shave your legs with them if you asked), it's kind of a downgrade to have to haul in your own towel, body washing... materials and wonder what kind of Hepatitis you contracted from being in the ladies locker room.
My third gym I pass, as I'm passing my second gym, on my way to the grocery store, dry cleaners, coffee shop and library. But I can't possibly go to that gym because... it's CURVES. Curves is a fat girls' gym and if I go there it's like saying I'm one of them and then I will be way too defeated to work out. I feel so much better, instead, driving by it, giving Curves the finger as I talk on the phone and wolf down my (second) slice of double peperoni pizza (tomato sauce is so healthy for you!)
UGH!!!! I'M A MESS. I could screw up a free meal as my Dad would say (Joe is always there with words of comfort which I why I think I have such high self-esteem. Insert eye-roll.) Okay, okay. I'm not writing again until I GOT TO ONE OF MY THREE GYMS. (Okay, maybe I will, I might have something excellent to say about Thanksgiving... BUT NOT AFTER THAT!) Today I tried on a top that made me all of a sudden not be so mad that my Mom had once given me a maternity top for Christmas (insert eye roll). 'Cause that's what this one looked like and I DID NOT LIKE IT ONE BIT!
I'm not dieting. Dieting is female torture. But if I was really REAL WITH MYSELF, I would remember that I FREAKIN' LOVED WORKING OUT. I loved how strong and kick ass I felt. I loved how powerful I felt. I loved that I fit into all my clothes and looked cute. That felt more like the me than the girl who writes off a gym just 'cause it's a big gals gym... 'cause HELLO, I think I'll fit right in.
Posted by adventure grrl at 12:53 AM