Thursday, April 9, 2009

Y me?

Last night I returned to hell. And by "hell" I mean "the gym".

As you may know, probably because I talk about it all the time, I hate to sweat, I hate to excersize and I think sweatpants are of the devil. Nonetheless, now that I am down double digits worth of pounds I have developed a horror of looking like Mr. Burns when I get naked. You know how he looks like he's melting? Well sometimes when you haven't eaten use Google Images to search "massive weightloss" and you'll see what happens when people lose a lot of weight.

Basically, many look very disgusting.

And I am vain.

Thusly, I donned a pair of (deargodno) sweatpants, a tee shirt my Gram found somewhere with GUAM! WHERE AMERICA'S DAY BEGINS! emblazoned across the chest and festooned with glittery palm trees and laced on my trusty three stripe Adidas (so old school chic!), clipped back my overly long bangs and went to the Y. You know why they call it the Y? Because you'll spend your whole visit going "OH MY GOD, WHY?"

As is, WHY the hell does the sweatiest person (usually a very large man) always take the machine right next to mine?

WHY does the sound on my personal treadmill tv only ever speak in Spanish?

WHY do my socks keep creeping up giving me a toe-wedgie that necessitates stopping every few minutes to take off my shoe and fix them?

WHY does some idiot always say something clever like "so, do you like working out?" No, extremely greasy looking too tightly pants man, I do not. I do not like sweating like Bernie Madoff at a tax audit, I do not like the thwap thwap thwap of my sweat pants legs against one another and I do not like the way you watch the Twins move rhythmically as I attempt a 4mph climb of a 15% grade.

WHY the hell do I PAY for this torture?



No Gym vs. Gym


Oh, right.

13 little kittens say Meow:

Bj in Dallas said...

I HATE THE GYM!!!!!!!! But I found a class I love (at our rec center) and you go in Sweat, and leave and there are no machines, no sweaty men in weird tights, and no girls with perfect makeup....

But JUST DO IT is the key...good job!

Unknown said...

and this is why I don't go to the gym...the sweaty guy LOL

YAY YOU for being down double digits!

Robin said...

I know the feeling. It's sheer torture.

Hang in there.

sheila said...

I'm proud of you for going, girl. I need to get my flabby butt somewhere...I guess I need to discuss the class that BJ speaks of.

Bobby's Dream said...

WTG! Proud proud proud!

alcoholly said...

Choose a different picture as motivation...it is clear in the second picture that there is a scar where she had the excess skin removed! She didn't do the work!

Miss Thystle said...

I went with that one for the post, because my actual motivation pic is too gross even for this blog!

Chandra said...

I started to work out too. To avoid all the stares and glances of my 'girls' by the opposite sex, I just go out and run the streets...at 5am when NOBODY else is up. Takes care of the sweaty guy issue!

BTW...I HATE every minute of it.

Jane! said...

I think that person on the left might be capable of flight in a strong wind. So, the news isn't all bad.

Jane! said...

Congrats on the loss, too!
How's the bike?

Lorrie Veasey said...

EXCERCIZE is so been there, done that. Nowadays it's all about a little visit to Dr. 90210. He'll trim off that excess skin and some rad designer will make it into a lamp. I got so upset reading about you in a gym and reading about you throwing up that I had to go eat a cupcake. Actually, three. Becase I am SO THERE for you, shadow of your former self.

Blonde Goddess said...

I have never gone to a gym. I just power walk.
I'd like to try working out but I hear too many horror stories.
Think I'll stick to walking.

Racie Lover said...

Firstly, Thystle, kudos for your continued sveltatude and keep up the good work. I just hope the Twins don't loose too much vavavoom because otherwise what will you blog about?

Secondly, as you know I am fond of yoga (even Sunshine and I have made our peace) and have recently discovered "Body Pump" which is basically 55 minutes of all-out agony targeted at every square inch of your body. Most of the people in the class are half my age and don't need to be there in the first place, damnit. The good news is my reps are up, but so is my intake of Aleve.

Hang in there but please stay away from Mr Scalpel. The gym will suffice.