Last week, I finally mustered up the courage to join the local gym, and it only took me (almost) a week to go for the first time! Jacob had swim class tonoc, so I made a trip to the (evil) WalMart and purchased some workout wear, as I am too-- ahem-- "lush bodied", shall we say, for my former workout wear, or "pajamas", as they came to be known. A *smart* person might say that if I had been using them for working out instead of SLEEPING, I wouldn't be needing the next size up-- but nobody likes a smarty pants.
I really had no idea how any of the exercise equipment worked, so I quickly sized up the joint and chose the most familiar and least dangerous looking contraption: the exercise bike-type thingey (except you lean back when you ride it-- a nice improvement, as you can practically lounge and read while you work the flab off. How civilized!)
I wanted to appear confident and a non-newbie for my first trip to the gym, but for some reason, the bike bucked and wobbled as I used it, and I had no idea why-- I looked around, and no one else was clunking along... how embarassing! So I sat and pedaled the whole 30 minutes trying to radiate the thoght that "yeah, I know it's clunking-- it's cool! I like it like that" to the imaginary spectators in my head: I thought for sure the whole establishment was gaping to see what all the commotion was, to see if perhaps someone needed assistance or resuscitation, but no one seemed to care.
I guess no one cared that my shoes were a wreck, either-- I figured this whole week that I'd have to run off to the store and pick up a new pair so no one would think I was slumming it at the gym, but I think I was making that one up so I could put off going for another week or 2.
I'm hoping to make it back in the am to check out the swim aerobics classes. I know that the morning classes are usually frequented by little old ladies, some whom are in better shape than I am, so I am going to try my hardest not to be intimidated by the buff grandmas and their ability to kick my ass. My main concern, tho, is that the only swim suit I have is the granny-skirt style tankinni, which weighs a ton when it gets wet. I really hope the skirt doesn't get waterlogged and decide to creep it's way off my butt midway thru class.
Which really leads me to believe that maybe I'll have to postpone until I can go shopping... and until my behind has shrunk thusly such that I won't be needing the added tent of fabric to hide my cellulite.
Why oh why didn't I think of how complicated it would be to get skinny?
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