Just shimmying into my new workout pants and taking my two boobs and wiggling them unnaturally to form one *powerful* uniboob via a sports bra made me feel stronger and more confident and as though I COULD DESTROY THE WORLD! Which is ironic since I then immediately turned from my Hulk Hogan HULKAMANIA! pose in the mirror only to walk into a partially open door.
I've threatened to start an exercise regime many-a-times before - and even made a pitiful attempt or two in the past - but this time, it's so on. You see, I've got mad competition. And I like a good challenge. The back story behind it all is what one might call that of the Batshit Crazy variety, but in short, my friend Tamara in TX got herself hooked on this TV show "Steel Divas" about female bodybuilders (normal) and bam! next thing you know, she's down like 15 pounds, boasting over the phone about lost inches while I'm eating straight out of the Baskin Robbins Rocky Road pint container with a plastic spoon, staring at the sagging skin of my inner thigh (where I dropped a marshmallow) thinking OH HAIL NO BITCH, I CAN BE FREAKISHLY MUSCULAR TOO.
Pass the bronzer, bitches.
Actually, I don't care to throw on a teeny-tiny neon bikini, bleach my hair a pretty shade of gold and charbroil myself in a tanning salon after spending every day benchpressing a small continent a la my good friend Tamara. (You should see her flex.) I just want to tone up and maybe even try some of that 'cardio' everyone thinks is so great for you.
Of course, starting an exercise routine for me isn't about looking up exercises or diets or BMI. Nah. It's about finding the perfect music playlist, discovering you can't find your iPod since you moved, buying a new one, finding the RADDEST slap-bracelet for it, buying new workout clothes (because the ones you bought for your last Get Fit! attempt are used. Once.) and then spending a couple days at the pool tanning your legs so you look good in those workout pants which ended up being capris.
You know, because everyone in the gym gives a shit what your shins look like when mascara is running down your cheeks and your hair is matted to your forehead. DON'T LOOK AT MY FACE ASSHOLE -- CHECK OUT MY SHINS! TAN MOTHERFUCKERS, AREN'T THEY? YEP. YEP.
SIDE NOTE: What underwear, exacly, are you supposed to wear with workout pants/capris? 'Cause the ones I wore today ain't it.
Now before you get all "You're so vain, you probably think this eyeroll's about you - don't you? Don't you?" on me because I'm all tunnel-vision on what I look like when I workout, give me a little credit. I'm the not the most confident worker-outter. I practically got kicked out of Kamikazee Kickboxing at MMA because I nervous-talked my whole way through it. Well that and I kept trying to get everyone to ditch with me. "But I'll buy the first round of shots!" So venturing down to the Sweat Box where no one gives a shit but I think they do is nerve-racking.
As it turns out, my anxiety was somewhat legit. Of course, no one cared about me or what I looked like. But I did make a total ass of myself. Business as usual, I know. But apparently, there is some gym etiquette I need to learn if I'm going to get into shape.
1. It is apparently not a treadmill competition. So, you, the new girl in the gym, probably shouldn't feel the need to out-run (especially when you don't run. ever.) the woman next to you. You also shouldn't feel the need to out-incline her or outlast her. Because you can't. And you won't.
2. Don't stare at your feet while running walking fast on the treadmill. You will lose your balance.
3. Don't try to look in the mirror across the room at yourself while on the treadmill. You will lose your balance.
4. Even if your attention span is this big, resist the urge to dance on the treadmill to mix things up a bit. You will lose your balance.
5. If you're in your non-race with the woman next to you who is not even aware you're competing to win at nothing and therefore going faster than you really feel comfortable going, don't try to redo your ponytail. You will lose your balance.
6. Don't stop the treadmill abruptly. You will face-plant the control panel.
7. Elliptical machines hate short people.
8. Apparently, it's quite easy to pull the handle off the elliptical machine. Also? You will lose your balance when you do this. Every time.
9. Just when you get the hang of the motion of the elliptical ocean, the stupid thing will tell you to switch directions. What an asshole.
10. 30 minutes to an exercise machine is 90 minutes in the real world.
11. Don't touch the machines that look like modern torture devices. If you don't know what they do or what they're called or even which direction you stand? lie? sit? on them, you probably have no business attempting to use them.
12. No matter how many times you look, your ass will not have become noticeably more fit during your oh-mi-gawd-that-was-a-lot-of-sweating workout. Even if it was a whole hour long.
And that was day one.
For day two, I'm going to venture back into the world of yoga. You know, where NO talking is allowed. Like, at all. Good luck to me, right?