The gym itself is a little dull. You got your early morning boot camp moms in a room busting their asses to get a sweat on. They've already been there for like half an hour when I'm just getting there so props to those ladies. The super fit career gym bunnies who are doing all kinds of working out and no sweating in their yoga pants and pretty ponies. Bitches. Last but never least, the muscle bound heroes getting their swoll on in front of the giant mirror, ya know, to get their form right. *wink wink* These dudes are always rocking one of two types of music, 80's power ballads or techno. Can someone explain this to me?
Then you have the types like myself. We like to wear sweat pants and cover up as much of our bodies as possible. This is obviously so we can increase our chances of sweat, or as Pinterest has informed me; making our fat cry. We push, push, push with our loud workout music blaring in our head, fighting to keep the beat and stay on the damn machine for just a few more minutes. We fall to the ground huffing and puffing, thighs shaking, face red and slick from the fat's tears, hair a mess and all for what? 200 calories. The gym bunnies scoff at us.
It's not over, we drag our asses off the ground and do the damn Ab. workout that has been especially designed for you by you based on your many hours of research. Also based on the level of pain you are already in. (Did you know the abdominals are the only muscles you can work out consecutively without hurting yourself? It's true. Google told me.)
Every other day you gotta do the arms. Every other day you gotta do the arms. Every other day, you gotta do the arms. It's a chant, it helps.
In the end it's all worth it because last week I was barely able to push through and this week, I am a little more able to push through. I figure it just gets better from here.
You inspire me!!!!
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