Dear Gym,
I miss you. There was a time, about two years ago, when we often met and, although I was most likely tired from the day and wanted nothing more than to return to my pajamas and sit comatose on my couch watching Mad Men, we would still meet. I would overcome my overwhelming laziness, dress into my running pants and sports bra then enter your doors.
Why?
Was it because I wanted to spend 90 minutes running and climbing stairs till I felt like Gumby?
Was it because I missed watching the ladies in full hair and makeup walk through the weight room in an attempt to attract attention?
Was it because I missed the awkwardness of dressing in a public locker room?
Was it because I miss the way I felt after a good workout? Come on…really?
No.
What do I miss?
I miss the bad pop culture magazines!! The gossipy ones that I will not bring myself to purchase. You know the ones - US Weekly, Cosmo, Glamour. The ones that while waiting in the check out isle at the grocery store you glace over at and really start to wonder: Is Brad really leaving Jennifer? Or is it Angelina? I never know. Is the Teen Mom star going to get her child taken by social services? (I sure think they should at least investigate!) I look at these magazines and I want so badly to pick them up and guiltily read all the most recent gossip. But spend money on them? Never. I try to avoid embarrassment and judgment when in the checkout lane as is. My kids have that area covered fairly well. The gym is the one place where I have the ability to read this ‘newsworthy gossip’ without the monetary investment. Beside, if I notice the person on the elliptical next to me judging my reading material all I have to do it turn to them and say disgustedly “Can you believe that someone was reading this?” Then drop the magazine on the ground and pick up my strategically placed Newsweek. Problem solved.
Yes. Gym, I miss you.
Your long lost friend,
Jenn
I hear ya Jenn!!! Ally and I just started an aerobics/sculpting class at the rec center. I have always left the People magazine reading to the check out aisle, but I forgot how much I missed the hour to myself. I have no idea what I'm doing in this class. She says, "lunge left" and I am still working on, "grapevine right". (It's a wonder that Ally and I haven't slammed into eachother.) Despite the lack of coordination and how rediculous it makes me look, I love that hour where I am thinking so hard about the routine that I don't have to think about all of the other things going on in life! The gym is so wonderful, in so many ways!
ReplyDeleteIt is true. I always HATE getting there but once I give in and just go it always makes me feel better. Even if all the good gossip magazines have already been snagged!
ReplyDelete