I've started working out again. It's nice. It's a time when I can go absolutely zen brainless listening to music and reading crap magazines and still feel virtuous! It's win-win-win! Plus I've lost four pounds already! I haven't weighed myself since that four-pound weightloss weigh-in, just in case that was a water weight fluke. In fact, I'm focusing on that. Four pounds! Lost! Which means, actually, I can now fit into my Real People clothes as long as I don't breathe. That also means I only have twenty pounds to go before I'm at my weight last summer. Which wasn't ideal, but it also wasn't No You'll Never See Me In a Swimsuit Ever Fuck Off bad, so that's a plus. No pun intended.
Almost two years ago, I was on an exercise kick because I'd gained back some of the weight I'd lost for my wedding (ha! I was twenty-five pounds lighter then! ha!) and I saw this gym had a buy-three-years-membership-now-save-a-ton! deal. So I did. And, in fact, promptly stopped going because I got a job that was leaving me exhausted at 3:30. So, thumbs up, Kari! Well done!
Fortunately, I'd also bought the go-to-all-the-gyms-in-the-area pass, because the gym nearest me is in the corner of a dying mall. Well, the middle part of the mall is dying. Either end of the mall is anchored by a Target and a Home Depot, so no matter which end I went in, I was screwed.
Wait, that sounds dirty.
What I meant was, it was costing me more because I'd just take a little trip through Target and find a t-shirt! That was only $6.99! So I should just buy four! about once a week. Not good.
But then the walk from Target to the gym was through an echoy mall with empty storefronts. In fact, the only store still there is Claire's, and I can't figure out how they're selling enough $4.99 earring sets to stay open, but open they stay. It was depressing. The people at the gym were not very friendly. And I had a trainer that I had to avoid because part of my membership "deal" was that I got to see a trainer free five times. I went those five times before I stopped going, but Rick (Steve? Tom? Whatever his name was) would still call me. He even sent me a Christmas card. I did not make that up for comedic effect. Anyway, I didn't want to explain to him that I wasn't going to pay for more sessions with him because frankly, I was too tired to go to the gym at all and have him guilt me about going to the gym and what all, so I thought it best if I just never saw him again. It was a little like breaking up with a boy. In eighth grade.
Now I'm going to the shiny new gym that's not so near my house but is near a Trader Joe's. I justify replacing my Target shopping with the TJ shopping because hey! organic! Plus: this gym is much nicer. The people-watching is much prettier. In fact, I bring the prettiness average down quite a few notches as I sweat and grunt my way through my workout. I am not a pretty sweater. Meaning sweating person, not the knitted or woven garment. I get all red and flushed and my skin gets all patchy and teenage acne looking. But hell, it's not like I'm going there in order to look glam. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Anyway, I went today, and then went to TJ's and basically I feel that no matter what, if I do nothing else today (oh! and we cleaned almost our entire house this morning, like with mops and stuff! so there's that too!), I was still virtuous and so can consider this day a Win.