The sun doesn't set on bad ass

After the bridesmaid's dress fitting from hell, I ate hot pockets and cried myself to sleep for a week. Then I went back to the gym. I'm not going to give you a play-by-play of how awesome I am and how much weight I plan to lose, because that is just fucking annoying. But I will tell you how I made a giant ass of myself this morning.

I strolled into Planet Fitness like I was badass, hair in a ponytail, shiny new running shoes, smirking about my witty remarks to the guy at the desk about his crossword puzzle. I was feeling brave, so I ventured over to the "boy's side" to attempt some weight machines.

Nobody ever wants to look like they don't know what they're doing on those mo-fos. So you saunter over, take an unassuming glance at the diagram with the crash test dummy showing you how to work your deltoids or triceps or whatever else fucking muscles you have stashed under that 6-pack.

You deceptive mother fucker.

I sat down at the "lat pulldown machine," faced the machine in front of me and began to pump some iron. A few seconds later, a woman sat down at the identical machine in front of me, and sat reversed on it so she was facing me, about 10 feet away. She shot me a look of annoyance, and I cursed her silently before assessing the situation.

If the machines are all facing the same direction... whyyy are annoying lady and I facing each other?

Because I was using the machine backwards. I was facing OUT, when I should have been facing IN. Guess I didn't notice those round pads that are supposed to go UNDER your knees. Sweet.

It was too late to turn back; I couldn't turn around in the middle of my set and let her know that I had realized my mistake. So I carried on with my 2 remaining sets, staring her right in the eyeball the entire time, pretending like I totally meant to do it on purpose.

No wonder people hate the gym. That shit is more awkward than elevator silence.

A Sweaty Old Friend

Yesterday was my maiden voyage to the gym this year. I know, I know... I said it was my new year's resolution. I'm sorry, I lied. I pay a membership for every month. It's only $10, but I still cringe when I see it debited from my account, like a tiny little elf poking me in the side, saying--hey, you paid for this, and you DIDN'T EVEN USE IT!

Oh elf. Leave me alone.

I really enjoy the magical weight loss remedies that present themselves as the solution to all of your weight loss problems. "They're these weird Swedish nutrition bars my mom uses to lose weight. It burns carbs. It just burns up all your carbs."

The solution is no secret, and we all know what it is. Eat right and exercise. I know, I'm one to talk... but come on people! No magical pills are going to do it. Putting foreign chemicals into your body isn't going to help. All we have to do is nom on some veggies and get our booties to the gym, and we'll be good to go. It's easier said than done, trust me--I know.

But I did manage to get back to the gym yesterday. I blew the dust off and creaked open the cobwebbed drawer containing my workout clothes and drove myself there. When I walked in the door, I half expected millions of balloons to fall from the ceiling and a sounding round of applause from the patrons. Thank you! Thank you! *Miss America Wave*

It was like revisiting an old friend. A very sweaty, loud old friend wearing a wifebeater and swishy pants. And it really did feel good to get back; I'm hoping to stay in the game this time and actually use my membership. And the good news is-- I think I waited long enough that I missed the rush of New Year's Resolutioners. See, I totally did it on purpose.

Zumba Ass-Kicking Extravaganza

Zumba kicks your ass. Plain and simple. Like MacGyver on a drug dealer, it beats you down until you cry. This weekend, after 3 months of not going to the gym and letting my sister and K cook amazing meals for me, I decided to join my girlfriends in a 2-hour class of non-stop booty kicking action.

Now, my friend Jes is one of the instructors--and she is PHENOMENAL. I had a bit of a time trying to follow along with the other instructors, seeing as how I'm notorious in my family for being the klutziest klutz who ever lived and they are Zumba-awesome. So considering that, I think I did a pretty damn good job. And I had a really fun time with my girls doing it.

So if you've never done it, here is Zumba in a nutshell: spicy Latin music and some current hits that I recognized (You wouldn't peg me for a hip-hop loving girl, would you? I like to keep you on your toes, readers.) a seemingly simple repetition of steps that you follow along with the instructor, and some crazy arm movements that prove to be the cherry on top of the ass-kicking extravaganza. Individually, the leg movements and the arm movements are manageable. But trying to put those two together was the real challenge for me. So I chose to do my own interpretation of most of the moves, and stayed WAY in the back so I wouldn't knock into the other, obviously more Zumba-inclined members of this class.

The thing that's awesome about it is that nobody judges you. Several times throughout the class (more than I'd like to admit, actually) I stopped and sat out a song for a water break. (I was WINDED, okay? Don't judge me.) And I just kind of bopped along with the music, still watching the instructor on the stage. I was still having an awesome time, just needed a little break for some agua. And they were totally cool about it! Nobody turned and gave you the stink eye, they just got their dance on.

So if you're in the mood for changing up (or starting) your workout routine, I'd totally recommend it. Just maybe do some stretches first, and don't eat a stuffed pepper and an elephant ear beforehand, or you might pass out from exhaustion.