Disclaimer: For easy reference, please check my early post about my life-changing decision to look 80 by the time I’m 40. Wait. To look 40 by the time I’m 80.
Thanks to the outpouring support of you, my lovelies, and a full-length mirror in my closet, I bit the bullet (and it tasted yucky! I must stop eating everything I see. Damn it.) and started to work with a personal trainer! She’s super sweet and laughs at my jokes – and for that alone, she should get a raise!
I gotta say, I feel good about it. For four years I paid the gym membership and never really worked out on a consistent basis. But, see, just the fact I paid made me feel like one step closer. Kinda like, I was paying, so if I DID want to go, you know, I could. I always felt one step ahead of the people who didn’t even have the membership. I know, I’m an illogical bullshitter. But with a personal trainer, there’s no denial.
In my first week, we did a combo of stretches and cardio. I never really do stretches on my own, because in my gym the stretching area is located next to the stairs and in front of a gazillion machines and I feel really exposed. Isn’t that weird? I don’t really care what people think in general, but I HATE to stretch and do all of those things. I get it that no one is looking, but still. I gotta say, though, that they did make a difference. I felt lighter and more prepared for you know, all the suffering that Ellie (my name for the elliptical machine) had for me.
Week two was ALL about Ellie and her friends. There she stood, waiting for me, all polished, and there wasn’t a drop of sweat on her. But, folks, I thrived. At every step, I closed my eyes and imagined Ryan Gosling waiting for me on the other side. At one point, my trainer asked me to pay attention because I almost slipped off. Whew.
Well, bear with me. Here I am working out at last, surrounded by skinny folks only. There is the occasional meatier gym member, but whenever I’m coming, she’s leaving and vice versa. I think that’s what the Universe intends, just so we have an equilibrium of fat mass and cholesterol levels. So yeah, I need some fantasies.
Skinny folks, I gotta say – I have a lot of respect for you. No, really. If I ever turned into one of you, I would totally be the nasty one who says she never works out and eats everything and just has a good metabolism – even if I worked my ass off to be skinny. Yes, I know. I’m petty and evil. The world is probably a better place if I continue to rock as a curvy writer instead.
On that note, I’ll do some stretches (now that no one is looking) and start writing.