So for the love of all that is holy, and for my sanity as well as yours, I decided to put this whole Eeyore sad sack thing on the back burner for now and be HAPPY! And what isn’t there to be happy about? Persimmons have finally made their way back to Costco! (I can only buy one dozen at a time because I can go to town on a bowl of those bitches). I showed a movie last week in class, and therefore there was considerably less whining. I went to a concert put on by Tower of Power and got my underwear signed by some aging funk stars! It was brand new underwear in case you were wondering…I didn’t want the funk stars to smell my funk if you catch my drift…AND, to top it all off, I went out Friday night and drank like a college frat boy, and IT. WAS. AWESOME. I haven’t done that in ages and it was the remedy I needed.
But beyond that, I also stuck to my workout goal. Granted, it wasn’t a super high reaching goal to get three workouts in, but it tripled the amount of workouts I’ve had in the last few weeks. I zumba’d (is that a verb?) with the teachers, burned massive amounts of calories at boot camp, and worked out at LA Fitness (more on that to come).
Boot camp had an edge this week because I was the only one there. Just me and Amber. No distractions, nowhere to hide, no mercy. Amber’s working out along side of me, and I have no legit excuses because I didn’t just push a human out of my vagina 4 weeks ago. I had to suck it up and go the distance. Among other things, I did 140 triceps dips that day. My shoulders were on fire. If I could have smacked Amber I would have, but she would have needed to lift my arms up to help me do it. But that one on one workout was the kick in the ass I’ve been missing and needing. I left there with my lungs week and my body a throbbing mess – and it’s the best I’ve felt in a LONG time.
So now for the gym. Quick backtrack – Barrett and I quit the membership to the old folks country club because it was too pricy and we were finding more resourceful ways to work out. But then like a beacon of awesomeness, I came home one day to find a 30 day free pass to LA Fitness taped to my door. Thirty days of a free gym membership? Don’t mind if I do! So yesterday I stroll into the gym ready to drop it like it’s hot, but I forgot that anytime you go into a new gym, they do that whole consultation thing about your fitness goals and your workout history and your blood type and childhood aspirations and yada yada yada. So I’m about to meet with my new gym correspondent, whose muscles are too big and whose teeth are too white, and I start feeling just the teensiest bit intimidated. But then he starts talking, and he’s a doll and not intimidating at all, and is even more fabulous because he’s gay. This guy is going to be my new gay best friend and we’re going to be workout buddies and shopping partners. BUT THEN….he mentions his wife and daughter. BACK THE TRUCK UP. How are you not gay? You just used the phrase, “Let’s get real girl, mmmmkay?” Why are the good ones always straight!?!?!? Such a shame.
So my allegedly straight new gym buddy gives me the tour, and it’s pretty fancy schmancy - a lot different than I’m used to, but the equipment is plentiful and clean, so sign me up! I hop on a treadmill, and because I forgot my I Pod, I’m doing a lot of people watching to make the time go by faster. Holy hot pants, Batman! What’s with all the matching gym wear? When did it become uncool to throw on yesterday’s smelly t-shirt and call it good? AND WHERE ARE ALL THE OTHER CHUBBY PEOPLE!?!?!? Why is everyone in shape and wearing color coordinated outfits? I can barely get my work clothes to match, let alone my gym shoes and gym shirt! I miss the old farts! What is this place!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?
I didn’t realize it at first, but it hit me when I was working out at this place that it’s been a LONG time since I’ve been to a legitimate fitness club. Not that the gym at the country club wasn’t great, but it helps your self esteem when you’re the youngest one there by about 60 years. So now I’ve got a lot of catching up to do and I think I need to go shopping for studly gym attire. But to step it up a notch, I’m insisting to myself that I get four workouts in this week, and at least two of them will be at the big, scary new gym. And I’m excited about it, because hot diggity damn, it felt soooooooo good to work out again – it was just the stress relief and “me time” that I needed. So here’s to “me time” and happiness and restored optimism that will hopefully last longer than a week – cheers and ‘til next time!
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