a blog launched to laugh at my own expense

When I Almost Joined a Gym...




I believe my parents realized athletic endeavors weren't my "thing" when I joined the elementary school soccer team for the sole prospect of halftime snacks. By middle school, I had face-planted into adolescence as a chronically uncoordinated child who dislocated an elbow trying to throw a baseball and faked an asthma attack instead of running a lap. When I learned that high school sports were required, I opted for golf.

The Golf Team was made for me. There were no running requirements, wearing matching outfits was encouraged and the bag boys were much cuter than the girls at my same sex boarding school. The best part? Our coach would take us off campus and out to dinner. Golfing was a close second to my all-time favorite sport of Competitive Eating.


With college's non-existent exercise requirements and the dining hall unlimited, I no longer needed to play sports in hopes of halftime snacks or after practice dinners. Under exercising and over eating (McDonald's eating) had never presented a problem until last week. 


Last Tuesday morning, I stared in the mirror with my mouth and skirt both gaping open. Unable to close either,  confusion ran through my head... "Pizza has cheese so that is healthy and frozen yogurt is the perfect breakfast food so I obviously the skirt shrunk. Its not me. Its the skirt." I quickly put on a longer shirt and self medicated my distress.



As I am double-fisting McDonald's, I had an pre-quarter life crisis style epiphany.... Maybe I should join a gym. 

I immediately began to think of all the reasons I shouldn't join a gym.


1. I don't have a car. How will I get there? What am I supposed to do? Walk to the gym? Exercise before the exercise? No. Can NOT do that. And what if there isn't an elevator at the gym? Will I have to walk to the gym AND up the stairs? No. Absolutely not

2. I don't have any new trendy sneakers. You know the Nike ones that are neon, sparkly or leopard. I am Sarah B Keating. I am never under-dressed. I will obviously need new shoes before I can even THINK more seriously about this workout plan. Wait. How am I going to buy new shoes? Wait.. Maybe my athletic mother will be so blindsided by the idea of me exercising that she will accidentally approve the purchase on her credit card! Great idea Sarah! 

3. Okay. But what am I going to wear with my new sneakers? I can't wear old things with new sneakers! That's blasphemy!That would be like so gross and rude to my new sneakers. I will have to go to LuLu Lemon and spend 6 months grocery money on one leg of a pair of legging. Perfect. I can go shopping today after work.

I continue to spend the day fixated on my "joining a gym plan." By 6 pm, I have all my ducks in a row. I called gym and they have an elevator from the metro station and an elevator in the building. Perfect. No undue exercise necessary. My new neon pink, sparkly, leopard Nike running shoes have been ordered. (Thanks for the donation A!) and I have just spent my life savings at LuLu Lemon. I am ready to exercise! 

I burst through the apartment door, eager to update my roommate Megan about my latest pre-quarter life crisis epiphany. (Two weeks ago, my epiphany was I needed to renounce my American citizenship and move to Haiti to live with the orphans) 

Megan, a former college athlete, had just recently returned from an evening run and normally exhibits little sympathy for my "allergic to athletics" cause.  She looked at me inquisitively, and said "Didn't you just tell me that you and Eli were running a 5K together? What happened to that?"

And then I remembered. I have already tried to be athletic before! Like 4 weeks ago when I went through the similar motions. Eli and I went out intended on running but within thirty seconds, we were leisurely walking to the Dunkin' Doughnuts 600 yards from my apartment door. 

With Megan's gentle reminder, I realized that my fake fitness fantasy was not meant to be. The only thing I am meant for is a bigger skirt size.



 BabeWalker always says it best:


xo
B


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