I Hate the Gym

I suppose I don’t really hate the gym itself, but everything that the gym represents in my life.

I got on the scale last night when I first changed into my workout clothes and caught my breath. Seriously?! How could I be ahem weight when I go to the gym all the time? Really?!?

I could work through the oft-told lies (which are maybe truths, but I don’t feel like they are right now). You know:

  1. Muscle weights more than fat.
  2. You weigh more at the end of the day than the beginning.
  3. Weight fluctuates and isn’t a good indicator of anything.


What I know is that I weigh more than I have in some time and I’m mad about it. This is the whole reason I go to the gym and I don’t feel it’s paying off the way I want it to.

If I have to have a pseudo-early pregnancy pot belly, can’t I at least be really pregnant to explain it away? If I can’t get rid of my thunder thighs, is it too much to ask that I be given some way-cool super-power to go with them, like the ability to shoot lightening out of my eyes?

The gym reminds me of my failings in my figure, and I hate it for that. This anger will be my motivation tonight as I push, lift, strain and sweat to battle against what genetics has handed me.

3 Comment

  1. Tammy says: Reply

    I’ve heard it said that the two great motivators for change are Disgust and Resolve.


    I love you the way you are…and that won’t change because you are more Rubenesque than the anorexic kids on the magazine covers. You have so much more to offer than they do anyway!

  2. Tammy says: Reply

    Oh, and those Chocolate and Banana Milkshakes? Whoa! Bad idea!!! What were you thinking???

  3. Rubenesque? I love it! Makes me sound much more cultured and sexy than I think I really am.

    Banana and chocolate milkshakes are a long-standing and much-loved treat from my childhood. Yum….and have you not enjoyed a Dirty Banana in Jamaica???

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