Thoughts at the Gym

So.

I haven't updated this thing in forever.  I'm well aware.  So this will be rusty.  Very stop and go. Probably hard to read and the flow will be off and my humor will not be top notch. Also I'm swearing in this one deal with it I'm not censoring myself I just don't care.

Deal with it.  You don't have to read.

So for those of you who actually perpetuate the idea of friendship with me after the big G .... graduation...you all know that I've become kind of a workout junkie.  Not in an extreme way.   Jillian Michaels isn't my BFF and I don't drink green smoothies with questionable ingredients from countries that I can't pronounce but I go fairly regularly.  I mean, my graduation present was a gym membership.  And I was very happy about that.  (Thanks Mom)

So I look like this now:

Woot Woot.

But that's not the point.

My workout playlist needs updating.  My damn ipod is old and won't run Spotify so I have a limited playlist and it's just not cutting it. 

So I'll be running and leg-lifting and sweating to my heart's-content and quite frankly I get distracted. 

And the internal commentary starts:

Ugh, Pitbull what IS that lyric? YA NASTY!

Creepy dude.  You had to pick that treadmill. That one.  There's like, 15.  All empty. But the one right next to me, yeah?  I'm gonna start walking now.  Take that.  

Don't sing.  Don't sing. Don't sing. You're singing.

...And I'm pretty sure that was my knee that just popped.  *Pop lock and dropp* OW FUCK.

And so on.

I mean, it doesn't stop.  

KE$HA is my spirit animal.  If spirit animals were made of glitter and whiskey. 

Why do they have mirrors in front of the treadmills? This would be more fun if I was a narcissist.

And you're not running any more.  Power walk.  Work. Fierce.  No not like that you look ridiculous remember the mirrors oh my god.

I have a headache.  Is it because of the ponytail? It's because of the ponytail. Ponytail is down and....BAYWATCH.  Look at this hair flowing in the win----no wait stop staring.  It's not that awesome.

Andddd I knocked my Ipod off the treadmill....there it goes. That was graceful.

I said that out loud. Awesome.

Slipknot what IS that lyric? YA NASTY!

Don't dance, don't dance.  DON'T DANCE.  You're dancing. Great. Go on.

I think I recognize her...from high school...soooo working out on the other side of the gym for the next half hour sounds good.

Did I shave both legs this morning?

Whatever I'm not meeting my soulmate at the gym anyway.

I TAKE THAT BACK YOU'RE MY SOULMATE HOLY SHIT.

...nevermind you only look good from behind.  It must suck going through life like that dude.

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And I could do more weight today I'm a total boss. NO I CAN'T I'M A WIMP. More reps it is.

My abs are writing documents listing their many grievances to the queen.  The queen is a masochistic bitch that says DEAL WITH IT. 

I think that's a teacher from high school.  But it's during school hours. Wonder if he got fired.  Probably.

Creepy Dude Alert.

For the final time.  Stop Dancing for the love of god Jenny.

And it just goes on and on like that.  This running commentary.  It gets me through though.  I can run an 8-minute mile on a good day.  But just imagine,,. I make all the accompanying faces for these thoughts, because my face is an open book.  And I know this because of those damn mirrors.  And I laugh my way through my workout, and I think the damn gym population thinks I'm crazy.

They'd be right about that.

Stay tuned for thoughts at the Club.