It’s a revolution, I suppose. We’re painted red to fit right in....

So I’ve become one of those people I hate. You know the “I-go-to-the-gym-12-days-a-week” people. Yeah, them, THOSE PEOPLE. Alright, I’m trying to be one of those people. To be fair, I joined the gym last Monday and I’ve gone 7 out of 10 days so far. I was there twice on Monday. Once for a personal training session with who I will now refer to is The Evil Hottie. And we didn’t work too hard, but it was brutal enough because I was doing things I didn’t think I could. Also, fuck squats. I know, I cursed there but it had to be said.

My thighs hurt. My ankles hurt. My butt hurts.

I better get skinny less Fat.

Though, I’m not going to get skinnier eating Pizza and Pei Wei. Why is pizza and Chinese food so delicious?

Also, I have a confession to make… I think I may like going to the gym. And not just because people are good looking and I enjoy watching guys work their arms and back. No, I enjoy having the place to be. I enjoy the feeling after, like I’ve done something. It’s not been that long and sure, most days I try and think of reasons why I shouldn’t go, and most of the time, I ignore said reasons and go anyway… But, its something I’m doing. Not because my grandma is asking me how I could enjoy looking the way I do, or because that kid asked their mom for the 19th million time if I’m fat because there’s a baby in me. It’s not because I want a boyfriend to find me attractive… it’s just because…I can? Or perhaps its all of those reasons. Perhaps its really because my sister is losing weight, and you know sibling rivalry.

My first assessment at the gym was a less than pleasant experience. The guy was lacking in the “bedside’ manner" and he actually made me feel bad about myself. I never responded well to shaming, so he’s really barking up the wrong creek on that one. He seemed relatively pissed off that when he asked why I decided to work out I answered plainly, “I want to buy cuter clothes.”

No, I didn’t say my health, because that’s secondary. I get it, it’s important to some people and you know I would love to live 80 million years, but I also recognize that life is short. And if you’re spending your whole life worrying about stupid things, it passes you and you’re dead. I don’t want life to pass me because I was to hyper active about my weight. It’s important to be healthy, but its also important to love yourself. And you know, we all struggle from time to time with our own egos, but why would you want to make someone who doesn’t feel bad about themselves feel bad about themselves? What does that do?

But seriously, don’t tell anyone that I like going to the gym.