What the F Are You So Happy About?

1 Feb

I want to love working out.   I really do.  I mean, if I’m going to bust my ass training for this race, I should try to enjoy it.  Right?  The truth is, I can’t stand it.  Every morning before I get up, I have a 7 minute mini meltdown consiting of whining, checking the clock, bitching, checking the clock again, and then violently kicking off my comforter as I swear under my breath.  I know that once I get to the gym and start moving I’ll feel good about it, but I still have to talk myself into it.  Everyday.  

The crab doesn’t usually crawl out of my butt until I hit the shower so I spend the majority of my workout completely annoyed by life, and I basically have a problem with every person that walks into the Cardio Room.  There’s the guy that no matter how many open machines there are, has to pick the one right next to me and proceed to drop ass the entire time.  There’s the old lady who comes in with a tote bag full of magazines, and spends more time figuring out what she’s going to read (hummm, another issue of Martha Stewart’s Living?  Or perhaps another gardening magazine?) than she does on her machine.   Finally, let’s not forget the girl with the eating disorder that runs for two hours straight, lifts weights, and then runs some more.  Jesus, just throw up.  Less work.     

No one, however, makes me want to jump off the treadmill,  march over, open my water bottle, throw the water at her face, and then bitch slap her across the face with the back of my hand, more than this chick:

Yeah. 

W.T.F. is she so happy about?   

“Why so hostile?” you may ask.  Perhaps it’s because I’m jealous of her love of physical fitness.  Maybe it’s the cute workout gear she’s sporting.  Maybe I’m jealous that just programming her machine isn’t making her sweat like a pig.   

No.  It’s because in every step I take I can feel every single drag of every cigarette I’ve ever smoked, every sip of beer I didn’t need, every roll under my shirt, and all of those late night college munchy binges.  Basically, it’s because when I’m working out, I look like this:

This is going to be a looooooong six months.

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One Response to “What the F Are You So Happy About?”

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Excuse Me, I Have to Poop « Don't Make That Face - March 18, 2011

    […] Getting up early to go to the gym. […]

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