So it's the New Year and everyone and their grandma is at the gym these days.
I can't even find a damn place to park!
I purposely started two weeks prior to New Years day so I could get myself established in a routine. Show my face daily. Get the others used to me. I get on the same treadmill every.single.day. Turn on the same channel. Enter the same program. I think I even wipe my face at the same time.
As I pull into the parking lot immediately, I started to panic. My treadmill. My TV. Undoubtedly, they would be occupied by a set of strange feet.
Sure enough, as I rounded the corner, past Beefy Bill and Stocky Sam staring at themselves in the mirror, I noticed my treadmill was being used by some skinny bitch who didn't really need to be there in the first place. Why couldn't she take her happy, ponytail ass outside to run the streets where everyone else can see her? Instead she had to take my treadmill in the far corner where not a soul can see me sweating my piggy butt off!
I could walk around the track until a treadmill opened up. Nah.
Maybe, I'll start on my arms workout and then do cardio. Nope. More skinny chicks occupy the weight machines conveniently located to the hottie sitting at the trainers desk. My, don't they look cute in their matching spandex. Barf.
The only option left was the elliptical machine. Fine!
I drag myself over to one of the two elliptical machines open. Hey, I've used an elliptical before. Surely, they're all the same. Except these machines *looked* different. More buttons, more options. As I get on, I do know that I have to actually start moving so the machine will turn on. I start moving, choose the Weight Loss Program and enter what seems like my life history just so the machine can tell me that I'm going to burn 5 calories! I get to the end finally and decide that wasn't so bad, maybe I'll switch to elliptical from treadmill.
That's where I was wrong!
The second I hit enter after putting my weight in that sucker tightened up like a rubber band being stretched from here to China Town! I glanced down at the guide and the little monster decided to throw itself into a Resistance of 20!
TWENTY!!! You're kidding me right? Well, then...let me just reach down here and knock you back down to 5 or 6.
I pressed the buttons again. Nothing.
By now, Mr. Muscle has climbed on the only open elliptical machine next to me. Punched in his numbers and he was off like a race horse climbing the Mayan Ruins. I notice his resistance is set to 30. THIRTY!
Now I don't want to change mine because he'll think I'm a wimp. All of the sudden I hear all this beeping going on and skinny bitch next to me is upping her resistance. Now hers says 30.
Oh hell naw.....I ain't touching mine now. I can take these two. Fat girls can run too!
After only three minutes sweat was literally *pouring* off of me. I had one of those carpenter rings around my neck. You know, where your face is sweating so much that the collar of your shirt is just soaking it up faster than the sweat can roll down your face? Nice. I think I even had sweat in the crack of my ass and my light pink shorts now had a nice fuchsia stripe running down the center of them! There was no way in hell I was getting off that machine before those two assholes finished. Their time was set at 30 minutes so I re-entered mine to 35. Ha, ha! Suckers!
I can't tell you for sure because there were some black spots all around me but I think I shouted out to Jesus a few times and threw my hands up in the air. That has to be the only reason everyone kept asking me if I was alright.
When I stepped off that stupid machine, my legs felt like jello sticks. My ears were ringing and my eyes were burning with mascara sweat dripping down my face. I felt like I could pass out at any minute. I just had to make it to the cleaning station, get a towel and some spray, go clean the evil machine and make a beeline to my car.
As I left the gym, fake smile and a wave, tears were streaming down my face. The guy at the desk said he'd see me tomorrow. Real funny, Jerk!
Especially since today I thought I'd be cute and wear my new boots with a damn 3 in heel.
I cannot move.
It takes me more than 3 minutes to get the nerve up to squat over the toilet.
I may possibly pee my pants on purpose just to avoid using the big stall in the restroom where there is a handle on the wall in which to brace myself as I lower down to the toilet.
I scream when I sit in my chair at my desk. I sent an email out first thing this morning nicely asking my co-workers to come to me if they need me as I will not be capable of getting up.
I ate lunch standing up today.
All I have to say is that skinny bitch better not be on my treadmill today or I'm gonna grab her by the pony tail and drag her to the not so friendly elliptical machine that nearly killed me last night!