I’ve decided that I’m going to lose five pounds.
Or try to, at least.
The thing is I love food. And I’m sort of allergic to working out. I always intend to go to the gym. I even bought a pink gym bag (for 75% off at Target!). I went to the gym with my new gym bag slung over my shoulder a few weeks ago. I walked in and pretended I knew exactly what I was doing. Never mind that I somehow walked right past the Ellipticals and found myself in the weight room which was filled with grunting and sweaty men.
I quickly turned on my heel and tried to make it look like I had meant to do that all along. Of course I did. See, when I work out I have to, erm, stare at some eye candy. Not that I saw any eye candy in the weight room. I just saw a dark haired guy who looked as though he were constipated or something as he lifted the barbell. His face was bright red and he was making the same noises that I made when I gave birth to my children. (Only he didn’t accompany his groans with curse words.)
Anyhow, I did work out on the Elliptical that day. I found a free one in the back and climbed on—and then realized my bag was still draped over my shoulder.
So I had to get back down, drop my bag and then get back up.
But then I realized I forgot my water.
It was obvious that I had no idea what I was doing.
After my water was placed in the holder I stared at the array of buttons on the Elliptical. Did I want a quick start? Did I want a hill workout? HILLS? Hills meant more work, right? Of course I didn’t want a HILL workout.
There was also a button labeled cardio and another that said something about fat burn. Didn’t I burn fat with cardio? Or was fat burn really intense?
“I’m confused!” I said out loud. I think I startled the woman beside me. She sort of flicked her eyes over at me and wrinkled her forehead. “Sorry,” I mouthed and then tried to focus on figuring out the buttons.
But it wasn’t easy.
Because there was another area on the machine that said HRZ.
What was that?
Human Response Zoo?
That doesn’t make sense.
Humorous Running Zap?
“You okay?” the woman beside me asked. I guess she was finished with her workout because she was off her Elliptical. She didn’t even look winded. She just calmly took a sip of her water as though she did this every day. Maybe she did. I should probably work out everyday. But life is too short to spend it sweating.
“What is HRZ?” I wondered, pointing to the area.
The woman glanced over to where I was gesturing. “Oh. Heart rate zone. The machine follows your heart rate. If it gets too high it’ll warn you. So you don’t die or something.” She gave a laugh as though she could never fathom something like that happening.
But she doesn’t know me.
She doesn’t know how much my body hates exercise. And who knows, my heart could be bitchy one day and be all, “That’s it. I don’t feel like working out. So I’m going to stop pumping. Kthxbai!”
I ended up just going with the Cardio setting. For twenty minutes. I mean, eventually I should work up to a half hour. Or maybe even an hour. But I knew I had to start off small.
And it’s a good thing I did because I felt like I was dying four minutes in. My legs were burning, my breath was coming out in long gasps and sweat was beginning to drip down my forehead. Gross.
I always wonder how women can look so composed when they work out. Do they take some sort of No Sweat medicine that I’m not aware of? And why aren’t their faces as red as a cherry?
There was a woman on an Elliptical who was diagonal from me and she had an iPod Touch. I want an iPod Touch. She was apparently watching a program on it. I figured out it was Lost when I saw Jack strutting around in his Dharma Initiative uniform.
Jack! Lost! I love that show.
So I started to focus on that and I was able to block out the burning sensations.
I still felt them of course. But it helped when I was distracted.
I had even seen the episode before but I didn’t care.
But then the woman turned it off because she was finished with her workout.
I nearly went, “HEY!”
But I swallowed it back just in time.
I’m gonna die....I’m gonna die.... I kept chanting to myself. I almost willed my heart to start going at an unhealthy rate so I had an excuse to get off.
“Oh. Yes. I had to stop early because of my poor heart,” I’d explain to Tom.
But my heart was fine.
When I had two minutes left I swore that the Time Gods were totally out to get me. Surely they had to be slowing time down?
I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die!
But then....the machine beeped, telling me I was done.
My legs felt like jelly so I nearly fell to the ground. I didn’t see any other women struggle to get off. They just easily did it and then strolled out of the gym.
Me? I sort of wobbled out of the gym. I dragged my pink bag behind me. When I got home I shuffled inside and collapsed on the couch.
“Gym....evil...” I managed to spit out.
Because it is.
I’m also trying to watch what I eat. See, I’m sort of addicted to Little Debbie snacks. The Swiss Rolls are my favorites. But they aren’t healthy. So instead of buying a new box like I usually do whenever I’m at the grocery store, I got some apples.
I sort of went through Swiss Roll withdrawals. Tom, who also loves Swiss Rolls, actually went out and bought another box.
“You forgot to pick up more of these,” he said, shaking the box in my direction.
Swiss Rolls! I’ve missed you!
Before I knew what was happening I was ripping the box open.
But then I remembered that I was trying to lose weight. So back in the box they went and I pulled out an apple.
I figured I could pretend that the apple was as good as the Swiss Roll. But my imagination isn’t that powerful.
And then Tom went and ate a Swiss Roll in front of me.
“You ass!” I screeched at him. I was tempted to hurl the apple at his thick head.
I’m at the point where if I have to look at one more flipping apple that I may scream.
When we ordered pizza the other day I got it with the wheat crust because I know it’s better than the regular one.
But it tasted like cardboard with tomato sauce.
Even Tommy went, “What’s wrong with this pizza? Why is it brown looking?”
I just want regular food!
I want my Swiss Rolls!
I want cheesecake!
I was at Wal-Mart and I was practically salivating at a box of Sara Lee strawberry cheesecake. My fingers reached out to grab it but then Tom said,
“Aren’t you trying to lose weight?”
“No. I’m not! I’m done with that! To hell with losing weight!” I shrieked and went to get the box.
Mmmmm, Sara Lee cheesecake. I actually had the box in my hands. I stared at the beautiful picture on the front and imagined myself eating it….
But then I pictured myself in a swimsuit. And I pictured people pointing and laughing. So I put it back. Reluctantly.
This is hard. I wish Jillian Michaels from The Biggest Loser could come and help me out.
She’d probably faint over the stuff in my cupboards.
“What are these?” she’d yell, waving a box of Little Debbie brownies around. “And these?” she’d continue, holding up some Oatmeal Cream Pies.
“Hey!” I’d retort. “It’s oatmeal. So that makes it healthy.”
Then she’d make me drop and give her twenty and remind me that she won’t tolerate any bullshit.
She’d end up scaring me and making me cry.
So never mind on the Jillian thing.