I woke up this morning feeling, well, like a waste of space...and a LOT of space at that. I was fed up with everything. It had been building for days and this morning it all came to a head. I was fed up with being fat, fed up with being single, fed up with being unemfuckingployed, fed up with my living situation...and the list goes on from there. I got on the scale for my weigh in and was kicked in the ovaries with a one pound loss. "Well, fuck you, too." I thought.
My morning progressed along just as blah as it began. Lunch time rolled around and I was still in what most would call pajamas. I kept thinking about the gym. Have been for days. This weeks mini mission for the Boot Camp I'm in charge of is simple enough. Just earn Activity Points as described by Weight Watchers. Do what you want, how ever intense you want, and count those points. I've done virtually nothing. I posted a message on the WW message boards about feeling like a slacker and one of the girls that posted back ended her response with "I wish I could be as motivating as you are." to which I replied, "How the hell is it that I can motivate others, but can't motivate myself?" Seriously! What the hell is my problem? I pondered for a second and then said to myself (upcoming vulgarity warning), "Self," I said, "Shut the fuck up. Stop being such a fucking pussy, get dressed for the love of God, and get your big badunkadunk to the gym!" Harsh? Perhaps. Effective? Very! I got dressed, grabbed my stuff, shouted a hearty "I'm going to the gym." to my Dad in passing, and drove the 15 miles necessary.
I walked in trying to look as though I'm there all the time and not draw too much attention to myself. I've only been to this particular location once before. I went up the stairs hoping that I remembered things correctly and that the cardio machines were up there. There were only about five people up there, four of which were on treadmills by the windows. The TV's in front of the other treadmills were all static so, figuring that's why everyone was over there, I joined them. Four guys and me. Got my music ready, stepped up on the treadmill, started it, looked up and out the window and, huh? The pool is down there. These guys weren't avoiding staring at static for the duration of their cardio fitness, they were staring at T&A 2008 down there at the pool. "Oh, I'm on to you now, pervs. Pssssh! Uh huh, I bet they're watching her. Look at her...skinny bitch in her little black bikini with her perfect tan and her blonde hair. She is skin cancer waiting to happen. Those tits have got to be fake. Oh, what's this? Well, hello Buff Daddy. Ohhhhh yeah, swim to mama." Buff Daddy, aka Sven, was a tall, blonde, tanned, muscular, speedo wearing, testosterone filled addition to the pool. I can't tell you if he was good looking, he was too far away and, really, does it matter? I've never wanted to be a towel so much in my life. He proceeded to swim laps and I proceeded to enjoy my workout.
Fifteen minutes later, shin splints kicked in. I pulled myself away from the view long enough to get in ten minutes on the recumbent bike so that my shin muscles could relax and then it was back to the treadmill. "What's this? Ohhh, the backstroke now. Nice!" Then my concentration was thwarted as Phi Beta Delta Kappa Gamma Ho stepped onto the treadmill next to me. "You have GOT to be kidding me. Does she shop at Baby Gap? Those clothes wouldn't fit a Cabbage Patch Doll for Christ sake. Are you? Is her? Her ass IS totally hanging out the back of those shorts. Daisy Duke wouldn't be caught dead in anything this revealing. Tramp. Oh, look, Sven is getting out of the pool." Fifteen more minutes on the treadmill, shin splints are kicking back in, view is leaving, seems like as good a time as any to stop. I did 40 minutes of resistance training in the women's only area and headed home.
On the way home I obviously stopped at our local crack dealer's house, because I passed my driveway and headed out to my brother's. I snagged my nephew and we started to go for our walk. He's been out of commission lately so it was good to see him feeling better and us picking up where we left off. This time we decided to walk the opposite direction to my aunt and uncle's farm. Once there we walked around a little and then headed back. For your safety I would now ask that you make sure you're seated firmly in your chairs so as not to cause injury. OK? OK. I kept having the urge to, well, RUN! Not only did I have the urge, but i DID run...TWICE! I know, right? It was at this point that I was glad that my nephew was in the habit of carrying around his mom's old cell phone. It doesn't have service, but it is charged and he could have called 911 if I either A. poked an eye out with the twins, or B. had a heart attack. Did I mention that I ran? Just checking.
We got back to the house after 45 minutes and sat at the kitchen table in the air conditioning. He brought me an Otter Pop and we sat eating them, playing Hungry Hungry Hippo (coincidence? I think not), talking and laughing. It was a good day after all.
My morning progressed along just as blah as it began. Lunch time rolled around and I was still in what most would call pajamas. I kept thinking about the gym. Have been for days. This weeks mini mission for the Boot Camp I'm in charge of is simple enough. Just earn Activity Points as described by Weight Watchers. Do what you want, how ever intense you want, and count those points. I've done virtually nothing. I posted a message on the WW message boards about feeling like a slacker and one of the girls that posted back ended her response with "I wish I could be as motivating as you are." to which I replied, "How the hell is it that I can motivate others, but can't motivate myself?" Seriously! What the hell is my problem? I pondered for a second and then said to myself (upcoming vulgarity warning), "Self," I said, "Shut the fuck up. Stop being such a fucking pussy, get dressed for the love of God, and get your big badunkadunk to the gym!" Harsh? Perhaps. Effective? Very! I got dressed, grabbed my stuff, shouted a hearty "I'm going to the gym." to my Dad in passing, and drove the 15 miles necessary.
I walked in trying to look as though I'm there all the time and not draw too much attention to myself. I've only been to this particular location once before. I went up the stairs hoping that I remembered things correctly and that the cardio machines were up there. There were only about five people up there, four of which were on treadmills by the windows. The TV's in front of the other treadmills were all static so, figuring that's why everyone was over there, I joined them. Four guys and me. Got my music ready, stepped up on the treadmill, started it, looked up and out the window and, huh? The pool is down there. These guys weren't avoiding staring at static for the duration of their cardio fitness, they were staring at T&A 2008 down there at the pool. "Oh, I'm on to you now, pervs. Pssssh! Uh huh, I bet they're watching her. Look at her...skinny bitch in her little black bikini with her perfect tan and her blonde hair. She is skin cancer waiting to happen. Those tits have got to be fake. Oh, what's this? Well, hello Buff Daddy. Ohhhhh yeah, swim to mama." Buff Daddy, aka Sven, was a tall, blonde, tanned, muscular, speedo wearing, testosterone filled addition to the pool. I can't tell you if he was good looking, he was too far away and, really, does it matter? I've never wanted to be a towel so much in my life. He proceeded to swim laps and I proceeded to enjoy my workout.
Fifteen minutes later, shin splints kicked in. I pulled myself away from the view long enough to get in ten minutes on the recumbent bike so that my shin muscles could relax and then it was back to the treadmill. "What's this? Ohhh, the backstroke now. Nice!" Then my concentration was thwarted as Phi Beta Delta Kappa Gamma Ho stepped onto the treadmill next to me. "You have GOT to be kidding me. Does she shop at Baby Gap? Those clothes wouldn't fit a Cabbage Patch Doll for Christ sake. Are you? Is her? Her ass IS totally hanging out the back of those shorts. Daisy Duke wouldn't be caught dead in anything this revealing. Tramp. Oh, look, Sven is getting out of the pool." Fifteen more minutes on the treadmill, shin splints are kicking back in, view is leaving, seems like as good a time as any to stop. I did 40 minutes of resistance training in the women's only area and headed home.
On the way home I obviously stopped at our local crack dealer's house, because I passed my driveway and headed out to my brother's. I snagged my nephew and we started to go for our walk. He's been out of commission lately so it was good to see him feeling better and us picking up where we left off. This time we decided to walk the opposite direction to my aunt and uncle's farm. Once there we walked around a little and then headed back. For your safety I would now ask that you make sure you're seated firmly in your chairs so as not to cause injury. OK? OK. I kept having the urge to, well, RUN! Not only did I have the urge, but i DID run...TWICE! I know, right? It was at this point that I was glad that my nephew was in the habit of carrying around his mom's old cell phone. It doesn't have service, but it is charged and he could have called 911 if I either A. poked an eye out with the twins, or B. had a heart attack. Did I mention that I ran? Just checking.
We got back to the house after 45 minutes and sat at the kitchen table in the air conditioning. He brought me an Otter Pop and we sat eating them, playing Hungry Hungry Hippo (coincidence? I think not), talking and laughing. It was a good day after all.
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7 comments:
Kelly, I was there with you the whole way. You have such a great writing style. You made me dislike these pompous, arrogant people from the get-go. I always look forward to not only hearing about how your journey is progressing, but to reading your latest story. Your a born writer Kelly and you use a voice that so many have longed to hear for so many years. Keep up the good work and please, no matter what, never, never, never give up writing. We need writers who are readable, and you are as readable as anyone I have ever encountered. You make reading a joy--not a chore. Thank you and the best of luck in your ongoing journey....
i like you a bit pervy...great that you battled back against the sloth monster.
This is soo funny, you had me cracking up. Great job at the gym. Keep it up, I am right there with you.
Thanks Kelly,
I really needed to read this today!! You have me wanting to exercise again. I think you and I would do well working out at the gym together because we think alike.......You write much better than I do, but we do think alike! I look forward to reading your posts!!
Way to kick-ass (even if it was your own) and to get back on the exercise track!!!
Keep up the great work, girl!!
hey, Kelly --- i stumbled upon your blog via Carlos' and you need to write more. I was cracking up as i went back through your posts.
keep up the hard work, chickie, you now officially have a following.
You're so awesome! Baby Gap - I love it. You and I are on the exact same page - only I can't write what I am thinking as well as you can.
Looking forward to seeing you soon ... let me know.
I freakin love Hungry Hungry Hippos. Not as much as the Uno I shall one day trounce you at, but it is right up there.
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