Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Zombie Goes to the Gym

Isn't that weird?

After several years of being what I so delicately like to term a "fat cow," I've decided that I shall lose some weight. I would like to get back to what I was before my children ruined my life -- err, body -- so I'm counting that as my goal right now. I will NOT post exactly how much I weigh, but let's just say it's somewhere in the 10 metric tons area. Yeah.

So, last week, I signed up at the gym around the corner from where I work. It's convenient and inexpensive, and I get a corporate discount since some of the other folks in the office also go there. I toddled over last Thursday to hand over my money and was given a tour. My fee includes all the classes and things, so I can take advantage of spinning (uh, no) or yoga (sorry, not that bendy right now) or whatever else without paying extra. Nice.

Anyway, while the Nice Membership Signer Upper Man was giving me a tour, I couldn't help but notice that no fat people were around. Could it be that I would be the only fat member of this fine athletic establishment?

"Perhaps they are skulking about in the corners, afraid to be seen in the light?" thought I.

But nay. Fat people were not in evidence. Instead, I witnessed what I can only describe as a meat parade, with tiny, thin women that probably subsist on cocaine and sticks stalking around in tiny Lycra shorts.

As I cannot wear Lycra shorts*, myself, I worried that I would not fit in. I would NOT be invited to sit at the cool kids' table! I would NOT get to experience whatever it is that these people experience on a daily basis!**

But no, Zombie is not at the gym for a fashion show or meat parade. Zombie is at the gym to shed unwanted pounds. Zombie will not worry about stick-eating, cocaine-snorting, Lycra-clad gym bunnies.*** Zombie will do her thing and leave.

So, this morning I showed up for my first workout. You might wonder why it took me until today to go, and I will tell you: shoes. I had no sneakers and I didn't figure that my Doc Martens were gym appropriate. So I had to order some from Zappos. I got purple and black KangaROOS. They rock. Also, whilst browsing for utilitarian gym sneakers, I found a pair of Misfits sneakers, which, of course, I had to purchase, because how cool is that? Misfits shoes? That rocks. AND I found an awesome pair of open-toe black leather slingbacks, but those will have to wait until I get paid...and I'm digressing.

Anyway, so, I get in there and lo and people! Apparently, the fat people come in in the mornings! So then I did not feel so lonely.

I did attempt to ride the stationary bike for a bit and it bruised my ass, so I think we'll stick to the treadmill for now. I am semi-competent at walking, having been doing so for roughly the last 23 years of my life, and I managed not to fall over anywhere,**** so all in all, I chalk it up to a good day.

Tomorrow, I get my "complimentary free personal trainer session," so that will be interesting...


*Okay, so technically, I could wear Lycra shorts, were I so inclined...but I fear for the lives of those around me were I to do as a Public Health Service, I shall refrain from the wearing of said shorts or any other article of clothing that contains Lycra. You're welcome.

**I'm not sure exactly what experiences those might be, but I think they might involve self-tanner and wire hangers. Don't ask why...just a hunch.

*** All right, all right -- Zombie will worry about the stick-eating, cocaine-snorting, Lycra-clad gym bunnies, but Zombie will pretend not to.

****You may or may not remember this, but I am not exactly graceful, especially since the fibromyalgia hit. I have a tendency to walk into stuff and then stare at it confusedly, like, "Who put the wall there?" Y'know.

link | posted by Zombie at 10:39 AM |


Ve Haf Vays of Making You Post a Comment.