Foolish...

I’m all pumped to go to the gym today when I realize I have no idea where my gym shorts are. Sabotage! Someone in the world is deliberately trying to thwart my efforts to live a healthier life! That or, like an idiot, I lost them somewhere in the five minutes between my gym and my house. Side note: saying ‘my gym’ is really weird for a fat person.

So I have to drive down to Target and buy some gym shorts which is super inconvenient because I don’t want to spend more money right now. So I drop 40 bucks on two pairs of shorts and a t-shirt. All this t-shirt does for me is turn my midsection into an inner tube and super accentuate my breast and seeing as I’m not a flotation device for a 45-year-old divorcée, neither of these things are particularly helpful. I figure I’ll hold onto it and begin to wear it when it fits me better.

I get home and decide to do some yoga before I go to the gym. I love working out at home. I let it all hang out in the privacy of my home. I make no effort to pretend that I’m not winded and I certainly don’t attempt to be discreet when I have to break wind. I sweat everywhere and I love it. The problem is, it’s much more appealing to watch TV and snack when I’m at home, so that can’t be my only option.

After yoga and a rather amusing conversation with my mother (who just had surgery) I drag myself to the gym. This time I remember to bring a towel because I was SO embarrassed when I was dripping with sweat the night before and had nothing to wipe myself off with. They really should have an orientation class at the gym. This is all the stuff I would never think about.

It’s another night of stationary bike to start. Thank goodness no one approaches me, tonight, because I may have lost it and punched whoever approached me in the face. The 25 minute flies by, mostly thanks to Sean Paul. ‘She Doesn’t Mine’ motivated me like no other song can, so thank you, Sean Paul, for motivating my lazy butt.

I get off the bike and head to the weight room. The ever intimidating weight room. The room that makes me feel foolish. I never know what I’m doing in the weight room and  tonight is no different. Only tonight is worse because there are actually people in the weight room. And I promise they are all judging me. So I do my best to look impressive as I do curls (I think?!) and shoulder shrugs and I’m sure I fail miserably. 

Joined...

To celebrate a momentous occasion, I decided to get a gym membership. That momentous occasion was finally getting my own health insurance. And because I get a discount on my gym membership through my insurance provider, I thought, 'why the heck not?' Now, because I am not being paid to plug this gym, I will be omitting it's name. Suffice it to say, it's an "Athletic Club" of sorts in "Beverly". Join and tell them I referred you and I get 5 bucks off my monthly fee. Thanks in advance.

So, I joined the gym. Now, as a fat person, joining a gym is extremely intimidating. It's not like joining Curves for Women. I walk in and it must be workout rush hour because EVERY SINGLE CARDIO MACHINE IS TAKEN by super fit and super attractive people. I almost quit before I even sign up.

The first thing the membership guy asks me when I sit down is "So what are you looking to do?" What do you think a fat person walking into a gym wants to do? 'I've come to walk around and eat donuts in front of everyone.' I could have said that and maybe scored an additional discount for being HILARIOUS. Instead, I  talk about my interest in starting to work out regularly and how I want to find out about membership costs. We discuss and he offers me a tour of the 'facility', to use his lingo.

So I get a tour and all the while I'm being super self-conscious about my body compared to the bodies of all the people who are there. 'I do not have abs like that gentleman,' 'My man-boobs are larger than that woman's real boobs.' But, I'm motivated enough to decide to sign up.

Cut to two and a half hours later when I come back to the gym to actually work out. There's Matt, still sitting in his office. He flashes a smile and gives me two thumbs up. "Back already!" he hollers. Shut up, Skinny Matt. You don't know me.

Downstairs to the Locker Room and on to the cardio room. I guess I'll stationary bike it, tonight. Headphones in, I start pedaling, and some Personal Trainer dude named CJ comes up to me and tries to persuade me to swap to a different bike so our gym can beat another gym in some competition. Step off, CJ. I'm a fat person in a gym. I do not want to be approached.

So I bike 6 miles and lift some weights and leave. All in all, not too crazy of a day.