Saturday, September 27, 2014

oy. the gym.



So, in case you were wondering.

We joined a gym. After about three months of a mostly sluggish existence in which the majority of my diet consisted of spaghetti and candy, it was time to make a change. Of course, I like to resist change. So when Levi said it was time to start exercising, I said, “But Leeeeeeeeeeeviiiiiiiii (no really, there were that many e’s and i’s when I said it), it’s too hot outside! We can’t go running outside! I would DIE!” (also yes, these complaints are always said in the most dramatic way possible. Drama is my jam, guys. I’ve been practicing drama voice and sad eyes and stink face since the day I was born. I mastered them all by the time I was 2 and they’ve been a true asset to my success ever since).

Anyway, the gym. I whined and complained because it really was hotter than Hades out there (I’ve always wanted to use that phrase). Also, the locals were telling me that this had been one of Oklahoma’s milder summers, so I had essentially resigned myself to a life of Reese’s peanut butter cups and cookies and was actually super jazzed about it. Surprisingly, Levi was not quite as into my new diet ideas. He himself was requesting more celery, which I responded to with a bit of concern and giant question mark face. Celery is one of the worst vegetables and that’s not just my opinion. That’s actually a fact. Oddly enough, Levi is not aware of that fact. And so I’ve been buying lots of celery lately. But don’t worry, I’ve been telling all the cashiers that it’s not for me, it’s for my husband. You know, in case they start accusing me of eating one of the world’s worst vegetables.

Anyway, the gym. The diet was a no-go with the one member of the family who has the ability to lift the other member of the family and force them to the gym (namely, Levi). So, we were off to the gym. The guy who sold us the gym membership was named something that sounded like Mike Wazowski except I think his name was Joe. He tried telling us all these different deals and how if you do this start-up fee then your monthly fee is only this much!, but if you do this, then wow! You get a free pony! And a number of other things that didn’t actually fly with me because I have mastered the basic art of doing math. So we obviously went with the option that was the cheapest and most logical because again, math.

So like I said, the gym. The reason why I actually do kind of like this gym is because they have those aerobics classes. I know you can all imagine me pumping iron and stuff, but I’ll let you in on a little secret and the secret is that I actually never pump iron. I’ve barely mastered the treadmill and I think that will suffice for now. But like I was saying, those classes. They have Zumba and Body Works Plus Abs (though I could really do without the abs part), Yoga, Water Aerobics, Cycling, and the like. These are good options for me. No, really they are. I like to have someone telling me what to do and forcing me to jump around and do crunches and stuff because we all know what it would be like if I was running my own workout at home (enter: cookies).

Because you see, the gym. If I didn’t have the classes, I would basically be forced to follow Levi around and do whatever he does. Oh, wait I’m sorry, I said that wrong. It would really be more like Levi would be forced to drag me along with him and show me how to do everything. Then, after five minutes of lifting three pound weights, I would be like, hey is it time to go yet? Also have I told you that funny story about my coworker? Also, my hands are sweaty. Wanna hear a joke? And Levi would do that thing where he sighs and rolls his eyes but also smiles and then he would say no. Which is really rude. And then he would make me pick up the five(!) pound weights and then he’d make me do a million crunches and then use a machine that’s probably supposed to be working my abs but really it’s just making me sweat and I’d be whining again and Levi wouldn’t actually get a work out in and it would be zero percent enjoyable for all parties involved (except for anyone watching, I suppose).

Because what I’m trying to say is, the gym. When you go to those classes, you have teachers who are sometimes old and cranky, or sometimes a little bit too hippie, or sometimes even fun. But at the end of the day, none of them are your husband. Which means none of them will still love you even if you whine and complain. And none of them will be amused by your zero effort. And none of them will think it’s funny when you talk about cookies the entire time. They all just make you work. And work constantly. For an hour. Which I guess is good for me. So the moral of this story is that I’m going to let my husband be my husband and let my gym teachers be my gym teachers. Because that’s doing the right thing for everyone. Also because I don’t want any of my gym teachers coming home to dinner with me and telling me to eat more vegetable like Levi does. Because that would be weird.

Although I will admit that it would be pretty hilarious if Levi taught me a Zumba class. In spandex, of course.

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