My stream of thought from entering the workout area to depositing my “soiled towel” on the way out.
7:25 pm
OK … do I want to run? No, definitely not next to Usain Bolt over there. Elliptical? Ahhhhh … That girl’s rowing and she has a killer body. I’ll row. Yes, rowing sounds good. They always do it on The Biggest Loser.
Where are the towels? Last time the towels were over here and now there aren’t any towels!
“Excuse me, where are the towels?”
“That big stack on the other side of the desk, ma’am.”
“Oh, duh. Thanks.”
OK, no one else saw you ask, or say, ‘duh’. It’s cool, just grab one and put out the vibe that you planned on coming in and killing a sweet rowing sesh.
Feet in, adjust straps. Um, where do I put my phone so I have some jams? There is seriously no logical place on this damn machine to set my phone and not have it go flying when I pull back. I’m blowing my cover, looking super amateur. Don’t panic, woman! Think, think … sports bra, boom! Just tuck this in there, put my headphones in like so and start rowing this mug like a boss. Is she wearing special shoes? Are there special rowing shoes?
7:36 pm
7:42 pm
7:45 pm
15 more minutes till Child Care closes … dang. I’ll have to stop my workout. Oh, who am I kidding? My hammies are crampin and my toes are numb. I wonder if this chick has kids? Probably, and she has the best arms. She has yoga arms. Damn her and her defined yoga arms. I want to be her friend so we can talk about how she got her yoga arms and joined the secret society of moms who wear rowing shoes.
7:50 pm
Quit now or go 5 more minutes? She quit, so you could quit. But she was already on when you got here. Don’t quit … go 5 more minutes. You’re already so sweaty the handle is like a fish fresh out of the pond in your hands. What if it just goes flying out of my grip? Who is watching?
7:55 pm
Power down, sister. Nice work. I burned … 390 calories?! What? That’s only like 2 chocolate chip cookies. Whoa … remember to disinfect your cell phone. Sick. Maybe the sports bra wasn’t the classiest, or most sanitary, choice. Be slow to stand up.
Why is that dude just sitting on that weight machine watching everyone? Move, son!
My water gulp is so loud. Am I putting my sweatshirt back on? I’m so hot. When did it stop being cool to wear sweatshirts to the gym anyway? Are those pants or tights she’s wearing? Where is her underwear line?
OK, run to get the girls.
Since the first time I stepped on to see my 3-digit starting point after Sloppy Joan (also known as the slap-out-of-denial dose of shame they prescribe at the postpartum checkup), I’ve had a daunting number hanging over my head. Now, something to keep in mind here, I’m not shooting for the supermodel-slim stars. I have my eyes on a prize that puts me simply within my “healthy” weight range and by and large, a bullseye for my BMI. And I know that being well is more than a number; it’s the way your denim doesn’t dig into your flat tire and the extra 30 minutes you can tack onto the family bike ride. Now that we have those pleasantries out of the way …
The scale says:
Down – 24 pounds
To Go – 23 pounds
Kayla Itsines 12-week Bikini Body – On Week 6 (50%)
Join a gym – Officially members and finding a stride(3%)
Clean eating – Oy. (2.1%)
Half Marathon – Need to train to start training in July (1%)
Hike – Planning phase (2%)
Yoga – Every Sunday (10%)
Slim & Sassy essential oil – Skeptical, but it’s in the mail (5%)
*These percentages are based on complete bullshit because I don’t know how to do math or quantify something like “joining a gym”.