Social...

Thank goodness it's Friday because it has been a long week. I am so tired. Tired enough to skip the gym. But thankfully none of my friends are free and so instead of sitting home bored for the night, I decide to go to the gym. Interesting how things work out that way. But please, don't intentionally not hang out with me on a Friday because you think I won't go to the gym. Some days I'm happy to go to the gym before hang out time.

I get to the gym and the butterflies are hopping around. I have to be entirely self motivating tonight. I know I've done it before, but for some reason it seems incredibly intense tonight. Truth be told I'm not good at personal motivation. Why do you think I spent the first twenty five years of my life as a fat person? It's because I didn't have the motivation to do anything about it. Often times the only reason I complete the reps that Just has me do is because he's there yelling at me the whole time. And suddenly I find that I'm the only person responsible for myself, today.

One step at a time. The first thing I have to do is warm up and I constantly do this by myself, so why on earth would I not be able to do it this time? (I'll tell you why: it's because I can be incredibly lazy). But what do you know? Boom. I finish it. And then I move on to the thrusts. This is where I know I'm going to have a hard time forcing myself to keep going. I'm supposed to do four sets of fifteen with a minute of rest in between sets. At six, my arms are tired so I stop. But only for a few seconds.

I do nine more. And when it's time to start a new set, I force my self to do all fifteen at once. This is what determination does to you. For my third set, I stop at ten, rest for about thirty seconds, do ten more, rest for thirty seconds and end with another ten. I hope slight modifications are okay because I just modified. Like a boss.

Despite it being fairly empty, inevitably two fit people find it necessary to do their exercises next to where I am. Thanks, thanks a bunch for making me feel weak. I move on to my leg presses and then on into the weight room for chest presses. This time I have to select a bench that's next to some other guy who is also doing chest presses, only with significantly heavier weights. Congrats you can do presses with 80 pound dumbbells!

I hate feeling insecure or inadequate. Not that I know anyone who enjoys that feeling but it is a feeling that can really make it hard to keep pushing yourself. I don't want to look like I'm struggling with thirty pound dumbbells while you are doing presses with nearly three times as much weight. I do want to punch you, though, so by all means, keep doing what you're doing. But prepare to suffer the consequences.

Thankfully I have self control and don't end up spending the night in prison for aggravated assault. Instead after my reps I go to the pool for a swim. It's been a while since I've been in the pool and it appears that they want it to have a little more of a tropical feel. They now have a ton of plants and dolphin shower curtains. Fancy. I do about a half mile before I'm ready to leave. And then, because I can, I come home and go to bed at 8:45 on a Friday night. Seriously. I'm that lame.

Foresight...

My plans of going to the gym have once again been thwarted by dirty laundry. I get off of work today and I'm really excited to go to Zumba because I have my court date tomorrow for my ridiculous 'hit and run' accusation. I've got some steam to burn off. Best Friend Rachel has abandoned me because she's in a cozy mood and doesn't want to leave her house. Plus she went to the gym for spin class this morning and doesn't really feel like going back, so I'd be going by myself if I had planned ahead and washed my gym clothes.

I throw them in the wash as soon as I get home and spend the next hour and a half hoping they'll be done in time for Zumba. No such luck. Plus, I get a call from my mother who is checking on me to make sure I feel okay about tomorrow. I literally have the best mother in the world. I will fight anyone who says otherwise and I will win because I am getting ripped from my trips to the gym. So instead of going to zumba, I decide to simply do some cardio and weights.

I'm going to take a brief moment to reflect, if you'll permit me, which you will because it's my blog and you can choose to skip over this part, if you want. I find it very amusing that what started as my standard gym trip (doing cardio and lifting weights) has taken a back seat to classes, which are things I thought I would never enjoy. Speaking from personal experience, if you force yourself to do something that may not sound altogether appealing, you may find it's something that you enjoy. I was terrified to do any class and now that's my primary form of workout. And I love them.

On my way to the gym I get a call from Liz because she needs help moving her air conditioner into the basement. I graciously agree to help because I'm such a nice guy, plus it provides me with a chance to show off how strong I am. And to top it off, it's technically strength training.

After I assist with the a/c and have a brief conversation, I head to the gym. I choose to start with the elliptical. Once again, something I used to hate that I now kind of enjoy. I also just downloaded some sick tunes to keep me motivated, so I'm really excited about this.

I hop on and start with 'Diamonds' by Rihanna. I wait for the elliptical to get difficult. It doesn't during Diamonds. Then 'It's Time' by Imagine Dragons comes on. This get's me fired up so I push a little harder. I don't feel like I have to stop. Ellie Goulding comes next with 'Anything Could Happen'. Call me crazy, but sweating and muscle burning feels amazing right now. I'm close to a half mile after eight minutes so I push to finish the full half mile in just over ten minutes. And I count that as an accomplishment because it was a constantly pushing ten minutes. 

Then I do some weights and judge some people on their footwear. Honestly, who wears LOAFERS to the gym? You look like an idiot. Actually, maybe I judge too harshly. Maybe if I tried wearing loafers to the gym I would realize how amazing it is. But as of right now, I'm content to be ignorant and judge away while I work my upper body and catch myself, on more than one occasion, checking myself out in the mirrors. Holy crap I've turned into one of those gym weirdos. 

Two...

Father in heaven I need to get caught up. So this post is combining Sunday and Monday. Hopefully all of you devoted readers are smart enough to figure that out.

After my depressing journey to the gym last Sunday only to find that the gym was closed, I'm determined to actually get a workout in. So I wake up and run some errands, one of which includes buying a new swimsuit because my old swimsuit has ripped and I'm not in the business of exposing myself. The problem? Target isn't carrying swimsuits currently. That means I have to go over to Dick's Sporting Goods and pay a whopping $30 for a swimsuit (on-sale from $45). But I look at it as a swimsuit that will be lasting me for a while, which helps me stomach the price.

I head to the gym and go right for the pool. Surprisingly, there are people in the pool. I would have thought that people would be out shopping for supplies in case this whole Sandy thing actually hits us. Oh well, at least my regular lane is open. I hop in and start with my standard half-mile swim.

Really nothing exciting happens. Some guy comes in about halfway through my swim and pick the lane next to me. This guy is ridiculous. He does one length of basically every style of swimming there is. And the problem is, he's not good at them. So he's flopping all over the place, splashing me and churning the waters, making it hard for me to swim in a straight line. This guy is almost worse than the children. Though it is kind of amusing. And in a weird way, inspiring. He just keeps going.

After a brief steam and a conversation with a brave man who is headed to Market Basket, I head home. When I get there, I realize I have forgotten to ask if the gym will even be open tomorrow. Sandy has closed my office for tomorrow, so it stands to reason that she could mess up my chance to do Zumba tomorrow. But when I call, the guy says classes are planned to go as scheduled. Hurricanes can't stop fitness.

(Passage of time...)

So I wake up jazzed cause it's a Monday and I don't have work. Thank you nature. This three day weekend is awesome. I putz around the house for most of the morning before going out to lunch with Fit Andrew to China Buffet (aka Heaven). I've always had a weakness for buffets. It combines my two favorite things: eating until I have to unbutton my pants and chinese food. And it's been a really long time since I've gone to China Buffet.

I find that there has been a change in me that is combination depressing and exciting. While I used to be able to pack away two and a half plates no problem, I find myself feeling full after not even a full plate. I mean that's awesome because I'm used to smaller portions, but I am a tiny bit sad that I can't eat as much.

But that's a really weird thing to be sad about and perfectly explains the problem I've had my entire life. It's not like it doesn't taste as good if I don't eat a ton of it. I just like the idea of eating. It's fun. It's what I used to do when I was bored because it passed the time.

After my meal, I head over to a friend's house and we watch some movies while the storm rages on. And by 'rages on' I mean the wind occasionally blows strong and it drizzles. Sandy's really not turning into much. I also find out that all classes have been cancelled by the storm. Screw you, Sandy! This will be five days in a row at the gym and I am going! So I drive over to the gym.

CJ is at the desk when I arrive and he informs me that they're closing at 6:00 tonight. So be it. 15 minutes on the weights is better than nothing at all. And I make those fifteen minutes count. Thank goodness the gym is back to the normal schedule tomorrow. 

Band-Aid...

Ladies and gentlemen, I am amazing. Today after work, I go home and spend a little bit of time watching TV and have a little dinner before I meet my friend Grant at the gym. I know I still have my calf injury, but I'm determined to not let it slow my progress. I spend most of my time after work stretching and massaging my calf anyway, so I don't expect there to be a problem.

Taylor is at the front desk when I come in. So she and I chat for a bit before Grant shows up. She asks if I'm going to a class tonight and I say no because of my injury and whatnot. But she tells me I should still go because the classes are for all fitness levels. Thanks, Taylor, but I've already got a plan for tonight and a spontaneous class doesn't fit in. Plus, I have to be home in time to watch the season premiere of Happy Endings.

Grant FINALLY shows up and we head downstairs to do some cardio. He opts of a treadmill, I choose a bike. I would have done an elliptical, but everything was taken and I didn't feel like throwing my weight around (both in the sense of actual size and the fact that I am the most important member of the gym) and forcing someone off of their machine. Plus, I haven't done the bike in a while and my calf prefers it when I'm sitting.

After just over 15 minutes on the bike (I decided to go for 3 miles because I was so close) I head to the weight room. I do a couple of arm and back and chest exercises. Grant meanders in after his time on the treadmill and we briefly comment on all the mirrors and the tendency people have to ogle themselves. People need to stop doing that. It makes me want to kick them.

Off to the pool where I do a couple of laps of each. Justin pops in and asks if I did the foam rollers he recommended for my calf. I said I was planning on doing it after and he said I was supposed to do it before and after. Whoops. He also calls me out for the band-aid I have placed at the top of my lane. It fell off and I didn't feel like getting out of the pool simply to throw it away. I can do that when I'm done swimming.

Grant and I head for the steam room, which I'm strangely looking forward to, simply because I'm convinced it will fix my muscle issue. I set the timer for about five minutes. It is definitely easier to stay in the steam room when someone is there to talk with you. I get distracted and hardly focus on the fact that I am slowly dying of oxygen deprivation. 

About a minute before our time is up, 2 other gentlemen come in to the steam room. Two or even three people is okay in the steam room. Four makes me feel a little claustrophobic. Plus one of the guys says, "You guys weren't in the pool for very long." No. We weren't. But who are you, anyway? Not everyone can swim two miles after working out on both a bike and on weights. Shut your mouth.

On my way out of the gym, I have Fun Taylor make me a smoothie and tell her she has to watch Happy Endings. We're practically best friends already.

Milestone...

Today marks the longest amount of time I have ever consistently exercised. One month and 4 days. So apparently this whole gym then blog thing really works. So if I fail, I can blame my lack of readers. And you don't want that on your conscience, do you? So share the blog and follow it.

After work (where I neglected to plank despite getting a call from Jane) I head out to dinner with a couple of great friends. I still had a free entree and dessert coupon for Not Your Average Joe's, so we go and use it up. I have a DELICIOUS sirloin wedge salad and end with a great dessert of Peanut Butter Ice Cream Pie. And then I have to go to the gym.

Apparently eating that much for dinner doesn't make a huge difference in tonight's workout. As I enter the gym Carla (who is often at the front desk when I come in) greets me by name. And to adhere to my policy of being honest and truthful, I only know her name because I asked Matt. It seemed unfair for her to continually greet me by name and not return the favor, so the next time I go to the gym, she will get a very enthusiastic personal greeting from me. 

Now, because of my training sessions with Justin, I am convicted to use that awful elliptical machine. So I hop on that, first, and go for a full fifteen minutes. As usual, I am crazy sweating the whole time and I'm very grateful when my fifteen minutes are up. I repeat the flapping move that I learned on Thursday and then head into the weight room.

I've said it before and I will say it again. Weight rooms have always intimidated me. I have never seen a single person who is not buff beyond belief in a weight room. Today is only slightly out of the norm. There are several buff guys walking around, examining themselves in the mirrors (something I never understood and continue to be confused by)  and an older woman lifting weights and making me feel exceptionally weak. But one of the guys walking around is apparently working on legs and every exercise he does causes him to look like he is about to cry. At least I'll be entertained during my lifting.

I'm working the upper body, today, so I do some back and chest exercises. I have to say, I've gotten really good at actually engaging the proper muscle groups when I use these machines, which causes me to experience a little more muscle soreness, but I kind of like feeling sore after doing a workout.

Before I leave, I decide that I am going to try the virtual bike game thing that CJ tried to get me to do on my very first day. After setting up a profile, I log in and try a basic course. It's only a mile long, so I won't feel like I've committed to a really long workout. Basically, I get to ride a bike around a track and I have to turn the handle bars to stay on the track and I pass other riders, as well. And you know what? I have fun. Are you happy, CJ?! I HAD FUN! So much so, in fact, that I do a second track before I go home for the night. I may have to do it again.

Determination...

So I get home from work and after watching the series premiere of Modern Family and throwing my workout clothes into the washing machine, I decide to do yoga. Now, in the last few weeks of doing yoga, I've never been able to complete the workout without having to rest at some point during most of the exercises. Today, however, I complete the whole video without giving up on a motion once. Bam. I gotta say, I feel pretty awesome when I'm finished. But it instantly goes away because I realize I have left a lovely sweat spot on the carpet and I instantly become discouraged knowing that I'll have to clean that up, later.

But I won't be doing that right now because I am a sweaty mess and I need to rest. I toss my washed clothes into the dryer and realize, with much dismay, that I have sent my hot pink earbuds through the wash. But I test them out and they appear to still be working. Now I have to waste time while my clothes dry. I decide to browse the interweb for for a while and read up on some great butt exercises that I can do at home without the use of machines. I then go to get my workout clothes out of the dryer. Unfortunately my normal workout shirt has stuck itself to the wall of the washing machine and has not made it into the dryer. So basically, I sat around for nothing.

I grab a different shirt, throw on my shorts and head to the gym, because a wet shirt isn't going to stop me, today. I feel too awesome. I get on the bike when I get to the gym because I'm feeling adventurous. 25 minutes and a full bike dance routine to Want U Back by Cher Lloyd later, I head to the weight room for a day of legs. I use the calf machine, because I now know how. I'd love to give someone a tutorial if they'd like to come to the gym with me, sometime.

Then, I go to the glute machine, which is especially difficult, today. Maybe because I literally have no clue what my starting weight should be when I use a machine. They should have guidelines printed on the machine. Like, is it awesome that I can do 115 pounds on the triceps machine or is that below average. And what should I start with when I do bench presses to ensure I don't die when I try to lift it? When I'm done on the glute machine, some old guy comes up and asks what the machine is for. It's totes awkward to talk to an old guy about a machine that works your butt. 

I do a few more exercises and when I get up to grab a cloth to wipe down the machine, old guy swoops in and starts to use it. Enjoy that, old guy. You're sitting in my butt sweat.

In case you were worried that I was too attractive while at the gym...

May I also take this opportunity to ask that you follow my blog? Simply sign in with your free Google account and click 'Join This Site' on the left. You'll be informed when a new post is made and I'll look really cool. Thanks in advance.

Suicide...

After work I go out to dinner with two very dear friends. While we are stuffing our faces with bread rolls and pasta, I attempt to convince them to join my gym, or at least check it out. After surprisingly little effort, I convince them that it's worth it to accompany me tonight and see how they like it.

Upon our arrival, Skinny Matt is standing behind the counter. "I brought friends tonight!" Maybe I sound a little too cheerful when I practically shout my statement at Matt, but I make no apologies for my behavior, so he can deal with it. A very nice woman helps both Megan and Charlotte fill out their guest information. I head down to change while they get things sorted out. When I emerge from the dressing room, Skinny Matt has already started giving the spiel (it's the right spelling, trust me, I looked it up) about joining the gym to Megan. I can almost taste the reduced membership fee.

We go down to the cardio room to start, and that is where I make the biggest mistake of my life: Charlotte and I get on the elliptical machine. I know within a minute and a half that this is bad. My thighs are burning. To top it all off, I'm on an elliptical machine that is right next to one of the exercise bikes that has a 'contest' component. It is this very bike where my good friend CJ decides he's going to be working out. It's bad enough that that I'm on a machine that will surely put me on the front page of the newspaper with a 'Fat Guy Dies on Elliptical Machine' headline, but to have to think about spending twenty minutes next to someone who may talk my ear off the whole time adds almost too much stress.

Surprisingly, CJ doesn't say a thing to me during my fifteen minutes of death on the elliptical. Yeah, I cut it down from twenty. Get over it. I am dripping sweat the entire time and my thighs burn like I just climbed all 1,860 steps of the Empire State Building. I wipe off the machine and wait for Megan to finish her biking when CJ decides to start up a conversation about how he's seen me here a lot. I comment on how it's really just an obligation and he says 'But you passed the hardest step: showing up'. That's going on my quote board.

I also look like this during my workouts, only with significantly more sweat

Megan and I head to the weight room, while Charlotte decides to be lame and use the 'Women's Only' equipment room. I focus on arms, today, but not before I try the calf machine one final time. Miracle of miracles, it works. I literally do nothing differently, but I guess the universe thinks I deserve a win.

At this point, I want to go home. I'm tired and sweaty, but these lovely ladies I have brought with me decide that they want to try the pool before we go. So I swim ON TOP of everything else I've done this evening. By the end, I can't feel my body and can only assume I have left my physical body and will soon be ascending into heaven. Not the case.

I decide to try the steam room, again. I walk in and realize that there are two other guys in the room, but I can't see them, because of all the steam. I head towards the edge of the bench and pray that I am not about to sit on one of them. Thankfully, I make contact with the tiled bench. I can still only stay about 4 minutes of torture before I have to leave and sit in the sauna for 10 minutes.

On the way out of the gym Megan decides she's going to sign up for a membership. I not only get my five bucks off, but I also get a free t-shirt, because Matt is awesome.

Sweat...

Today when I go to the gym, I once again begin in the weight room. Because it's legs, I decide I'm going to conquer the calf machine. Unfortunately, I fail miserably. No matter what I do, the thing stays locked in place. I even watched someone use it yesterday and it looked really easy, but I have no success as I pull locks and push levers. Anyone want to help me out with this?! The machine looks like this:

I will defeat you one day, Satan Machine

I also forgot to wipe down a machine today. So I'm pretty sure I'm going to get a phone call and be told that I am no longer welcome at the establishment.

After working my gluteus maximus, I go back to the locker room. On my way, I pass CJ. 'Don't even think about speaking to me,' I think to myself. He must be a mind reader because he doesn't even look at me. Then, I change into my bathing suit for another night in the pool. Thankfully, I am able to enter the water without falling on my soon-to-be-toned buns of steel. I also remember to bring goggles so that I can swim without looking like a total idiot. I do several laps freestyle, with just my legs, and using just my arms. I feel a lot better today than I did yesterday.

But this is why I hate swimming. It defies all logic that I should be sweating doing something in which I am submerged in water. I simply can not fathom how this can happen. And don't be the loser who tries to explain why I still sweat even in water. I will unfriend you on facebook and not feel badly about it.

I swim for half an hour then head back to the locker room to shower and change. But curiosity gets the better of me and I decide to explore the shower area. Not only are there showers in there, but there is a hot tub, a sauna, and a steam room. This is the best gym ever. 

I decide to start with the familiar territory of the sauna. These used to terrify me as a kid because it was always difficult for me to breathe in them. Thankfully, with age comes experience and I can say, with confidence, I have triumphed over my fear of saunas. I sit in the sauna for about 10 minutes, then exit, for fear that I may fall asleep and be slow-cooked to perfection.

I decide to be adventurous and try the steam room and suddenly realize that I have replaced my fear of saunas with the fear of steam rooms. 

I expected something calm and relaxing, like this. Instead, I almost died.

All of my senses are assaulted at once and I think I may be having a stroke. It smells like medicine, I feel hot and sticky, there is a steady hissing noise (also reawakening my fear of snakes), and my vision goes blurry from an inability to see anything through all the steam. Like a mature adult, I force myself to sit in the steam room for a full 4 minutes before my fear takes control and I have to leave.

Moral of the story, steam rooms are kind of scary and be very careful when searching for images of 'steam room' online.

Peeing...

Please be aware that I have no shame and I am perfectly comfortable talking about bodily functions. This will occasionally filter into the blog.

So after I watch an episode of The X-Factor, I drive to the gym and as I'm walking up the stairs to the front door, I'm getting nervous. 'I'm going to scan my card and lights will flash because they're going to see that I haven't been to the gym all week.' Card scanned, nothing happens. Now I'm offended. 'Apparently they don't care that I haven't been all week. Thanks for all the great support!'.

I walk down the stairs into the locker room and get changed into my gym clothes. As I leave, I briefly think I may need to pee before I start. Someone is already using the urinal, so I decide to leave, but not before I notice something strange. Being that most people wear pants or shorts with some sort of elastic waistband, I have found that the easiest way is just to pull down the front of my shorts and do my business. Apparently this guy has found a better way because he goes up through the left leg of his shorts. I have never seen this done before and I'll be honest: it was weird.

I go to the stationary bike and start my workout The good old stationary bike that never lets me down. There is nothing confusing about sitting and pedaling. I don't even have to press any buttons on the bike. It just assumes I know what I'm doing. I just pedal and lip-sync to all my gym jams. What a great name for a playlist, btdubs.

11 minutes in to the ride, I realize I have to pee. The question is, do I hold it for the next 14 minutes, or do I finish the ride and then go? I don't like either option, so I just pee my pants. Just kidding. I wait until I finish and then speed walk to the bathroom. And no, I don't try going up through the leg.

After my bathroom break I head to the weight room, which is once again full of men in much better shape than me. I do some free weights and minimal machines because of an article someone sent me over Facebook that warned of the perils of some machines. Back, shoulders, biceps and triceps, all in time to get home and shower before the new season of Parks and Recreation starts.

Sickness...

Despite feeling ill, I decide I still need to workout and rather than infect everyone at the gym, I stay home. Another day of yoga in the living room. The only problem with this decision is that I have short ceilings in my apartment and a lot of the stretches involve lengthening my spine with my arms over my head. Impossible to do when I only have 4 inches of clearance between the top of my head and the ceiling. So I adjust, and hope that I'm not doing serious damage to my body, as a result.

It's a rough workout. My arms are incredibly sore from the lifting that I've done recently, and I can think of nothing more appealing than lying on the couch and watching the sad sacks in the video do the workout while I stuff my face full of Funyuns. But that would be foolish.

Sweat is pouring off of me and I start to realize that regardless of my fitness level, I will ALWAYS sweat if I'm doing it right. This is an incredibly depressing thought. I hate the feeling of sweating. I understand that it has to happen, on a biological level, but I really think I'd prefer whatever the consequence of not sweating would be. It gets into my eyes and runs up my nose when I'm in downward dog and is generally annoying.

Another frustrating thing about a fat person doing yoga is when I can't do a particular pose. Now, I don't mean can't because I'm not flexible. I have always been flexible. I'm talking when my body gets in it's own way. I'm supposed to lay on my back and pull my knees to my chest. When I've got a big stomach, this isn't possible. 25 minutes later, I'm exhausted but invigorated. If I could just continue to remember how great I feel after a workout, maybe I could convince myself that it's a good idea more often.

Mornings...

Let it be known that I HATE working out in the morning. I have plans to go into Boston this evening, so I decide that means I need to wake up early in order to get in my workout for the day. Yes, I'm amazing and have incredible dedication, but please, settle down.

It's awful from the moment the day starts. My alarm goes off and I instinctively hit snooze before I realize that this defeats the entire purpose of setting an alarm in the first place. So I actually get out of bed. The stupid thing with exercising in the morning is you still have to get ready. And it's pointless to shower before hand so I still have that awful sleep feeling all over myself. What the heck is that from, anyway?

I also have to put my contacts in, because otherwise I will not be able to see the TV and therefore will not be doing the yoga poses properly. And I hate putting my contacts in before I shower. Don't judge me or question my opinion. Deal with it. It's the truth.

So I start the DVD and 40 minutes later, I am now sweating profusely so it's sleep mixed with exertion sweat which makes a death cocktail of body odor. It's a good thing I didn't eat breakfast before I did this. It's also good that I am not in the presence of any other people because if I were, I would probably end up being arrested for homicide. 

I have never been more happy to shower, in my entire life. Okay, that's probably an over-exaggeration, but it's definitely in my top ten. And this morning's work out marks 5 days in a row, of working out! Never in my life have I done that. So suck on that, naysayers and my self doubt! Plus, I have a follow-up to a physical later in the day, and the doctor says he's very pleased with my progress. But I still hate morning workouts.

Lessons...

I really need a gym bag, because I keep a) forgetting to bring things to the gym and b) keep losing things when I leave the gym. The other day at Target I buy a pair of really awesome hot pink ear-bud head phone because why shouldn't you be a little flashy at the gym? I lose them two days later. Or someone steals them. But I'm pretty sure I just lose them.

In an embarrassing turn of events, I neglect to wash my gym clothes and have to come up with an alternative work-out outfit. I find a pair of shorts that I really only use to sleep in and an old t-shirt to wear, but I basically end up looking like a hot dog because the shorts are red and the shirt is yellow. And now a hot dog sounds delicious and all I can think about is eating one. No hot dogs. Just gym.

I get to the gym after watching The X-Factor and put my stuff in the locker room when I realize that I have once again forgotten my towel. I don't think it's going to be a big deal because my plan is to stick to the weight room today.

Upon entering the weight room, I notice that it is much more crowded than usual. Instead of one lone person, there are now 5-6 beefy guys that look like they've been going to the gym since they were able to walk. And one of them has brought some ditsy looking woman who doesn't touch a single piece of equipment. Apparently you need arm candy even at the gym.

I try to ignore everyone as I work my arms and shoulders until I'm good and sore, but another variable comes into play that I didn't expect. Before I left for the gym, I had a little ice cream to celebrate my successes of the week. And by a little, I mean more than I should have had, and I am now feeling it. For those of you who might be curious, I can now say with complete confidence that you do not want to be lifting weight while you feel queasy.

Intimidation...

There are two things in the world that intimidate me: movie stars and treadmills. And I only encounter one on a regular basis. I go to the gym yesterday and decide like an idiot that I'm going to use a treadmill. As I walk over someone calls out my name. I turn and it's my apparently new best friend CJ. I get your tactic, CJ. Greet the new guy, make him feel welcome so he gets off his lazy butt and keeps coming back. Apparently, CJ cares more about my health than I do. Keep it to yourself, CJ.

Picking a treadmill doesn't sound hard, but when there's a row of about 15 of them it suddenly seems like a huge decision. Do I pick one close to other people and potentially seem creepy? Do I pick one as far away from others and seem snobbish? I have no idea. So I pick one in the middle and try not to feel badly about my decision.

As I start up the treadmill, I realize I do not know treadmill etiquette. I have no idea if I should start it and slowly increase my speed, or raise the speed before I step on, and I am for sure not touching that incline button. I'm terrified I'm going to fall flat on my face and all I'm doing is walking. Something I do EVERY DAY. Leave it to a piece of gym equipment to make you feel inadequate while doing something as trivial as walking. I find my groove after about five minutes, but not without the constant fear of what will happen if I look away from my feet, or the foreboding end of the treadmill that could be millimeters from my feet; I really have no idea.

About 8 minutes in, I'm overcome with an urge to dance as 'Club Can't Handle Me', the genius Flo Rida and David Guetta collaboration from last year, plays on my ipod. Seriously, who doesn't want to break it down when this song comes on? Evidently, not only can the Club not handle me, but neither can the treadmill. Trying to bounce to a beat with your upper body while your feet are walking at a completely different tempo is insanely difficult and I lose my balance and have to brace myself on the supports. Mental note, don't dance on the treadmill.

After 25 minutes and about a gallon of sweat, my time on the treadmill has come to an end. Post-treadmill, I feel like I'm gliding across the floor, which feels kind of cool. Then, on to the weight room for leg day. Now, I've never been in labor before, but I'm fairly certain that working my inner thighs on the machine that forces your legs apart in the most provocative of ways comes pretty close to what it feels like to lie in a hospital bed awaiting the emergence of an infant from your nether region. Praise be to Jehovah this gym is practically a ghost town.

Several more machines and two sore legs later, I begin the arduous climb up the set of stairs that you have to use in order to exit the gym. Clever design, gym architect, but I would literally push you down these stairs if you were here right now. Not only do I have to conquer those stairs, but I have to ascend the two flights of stairs to get to my apartment. What did I learn today? Stairs suck.

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.