Going to the Gym is Like an Atheist Stepping into Church

And guys…I didn’t spontaneously combust. We went to the gym last night. After paying for a membership for several months and going less than once a month. We went back.

And I took a chance on zumba.

And despite the fact that I am in TERRIBLE shape.

Despite the fact that I have 2 bad ankles, 2 bad knees and 2 bad hip flexors.

Despite the fact that I was the chubbiest girl in the room.

Despite the fact that I could BARELY keep up with the skinny bitches.

I lasted the entire 60 minute class. And lived to consider going back.

Once I stopped staring at my stomach in the mirror and watching myself bounce around like a bowl of jello going on a joyride…I kind of caught on. And caught myself…Smiling. Exhausted. But smiling. It felt good!

(BTW, I hate it when I use my best line in the title. But I’m too lazy to change it and put something else up there. I feel like I let you guys down. Wait. I can make it up to you. Keep reading).

I did all of this crazy zumba-ing while injured! So on Wednesday when we were getting off the train, I slipped on the metal stair. The doors were still closed, the train was still moving, and if I hadn’t been holding on to the pole/railing/bar thingy for dear life, I would have fallen into the door, which would have opened, and I would have fallen out of a moving train to my klutzy death. But I WAS holding on, so none of that nonsense happened. Except that in holding on, I pulled every muscle from my wrist to my neck trying to rescue myself from a very embarrassing death.

Brian’s reaction?

Or should I call it, Brian’s lack of reaction?

“Did you hurt your ankle?”

“No”

“OK, good.”

He’s immune to my klutzy. I suppose that’s only natural when the word “ow!” comes out of my mouth more than any other single word.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

11 Things I Think in Yoga Class

I know that in yoga, you’re supposed to meditate and find your inner chi or peace or something…

Instead, my mind starts to wander and I have some very valuable (and bizarre) thoughts. It’s almost as good as my shower thinking (which is where I do all of my big thinking). A lot of the thoughts I have are about my boobs. But you’d think about your boobs a lot too, if you spent multiple minutes at a time with your face in your own tits. Fucking yoga.
Yoga

11 Things I Think While Meditating in Yoga Asanas

I wonder what would happen if I try that next pose?

My boobs are fucking ginormous.

He (the instructor) wants me to do what?

I have the worst frontal wedgie in the history of ever.

So this is what a motorboat feels like.

I don’t care what Special K said, a power bar does not equal dinner.

I wonder if I could pop my boobs like a balloon.

I wonder if anyone would notice me pull my underwear out of my crotch.

My feet are fucking freezing, Mr. Bigglesworth.

Is that pose even possible?

I’m supposed to be meditating. Is thinking about dinner meditating?

Blog friends, what do you think about when you’re working out?

 

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Come On Everybody Let’s Mousercise!

If you’re anything at all like me, you aren’t really big into exercising. I’ve recently come into a really great gym that gives me the motivation to work out, though my current work schedule doesn’t always allow for me to make it to the gym for my preferred classes.

Prior to this, my workout routine consisted of a multi-step process. One of the things that I would tend to do when the motivation would strike me is to buy a workout DVD. First, I’d wake up in the morning and put on work out clothes. That was the first step in work out motivation. Then, if I made it to step two without stopping at the computer to check Facebook, I would put the DVD into the system. Step 3 is my favorite part. Watching the aforementioned work out video.

Yes, that’s right. I felt the need to watch through the entire work out to get a feel for how it was going to play out. After a few viewings, I may have been be ready to actually test the system out. Maybe.

A memory I recently pulled from the depths of my brain, thanks to the Disney-mania that is my excitement for the upcoming Disney 2012 trip, really resonates in my mind now.

When I was a wee child, I used to wake up before the sun rose and sneak downstairs to watch TV. The Disney Channel was my preferred TV experience. If I was lucky, I’d be up by about 5 AM, just in time for Mousercise.

What is Mousercise, you ask? It was only the epitome of Disney programming in the early to mid 80’s. Mousercise was a children’s work out television series, hosted by a sassy woman named Kellyn. Her high energy at 5 AM astounded me, and I wanted to play too. Even Mickey woke up for the work out. My favorite part was, of course, the opening credits, which I’ve embedded, below.

What really strikes me about this memory, though, is the fact that I would sit on the couch and WATCH Mousercise unfold. Sometimes, I would participate in the work out activities, but mostly, I was a big fan of observation. Typically I would spent the first 5-7 minutes working out, but then I would sit down on my chubby American girl ass and watch as Disney tried to get me to be healthy. Sometimes, I vaguely recall, Kellyn would give healthy eating and other tips that I would follow with the best of my ability. I really loved Mousercise. I was very sad when it was over.

As promised:

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!