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hello i am fat

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goalie

My cold is almost an ex-cold, and yet I have still not managed to make it back to the gym. Where is my vim? Where is my vigor? Where is my whenceforth and heretofore? Also, I just ate a snickers bar. Can a ham be far behind?

I feel like a ham. A big greasy deep-fried one.

It is astonishing to me, how easy it is to fall out of good habits – one small step to the side, one brief break, and there is suddenly so much to catch up on, it is frightening, and it seems hard, just impossibly so.

I tell myself I am working my way back slowly – I bought a pair of workout pants to replace the scary faded capris I've been wearing – the ones that are super, super sexy with the scrunched-down knee socks and sneakers. I finally brought my extra brush in, to tuck into my gym bag, because the post-shower wild and crazy look was not winning me many admirers at work. And I remembered to put my flip flops back in with my gear, because I do not want to grow interesting and varied funguses in the course of showering.

Baby steps. Little tiny ones. With all the requisite splatting and thumping and wailing.

What I need to do is make goals. Here is me making goals. As soon as I figure out what they are, I'll get back to you.

(I think my first goal should be "snickers have vitamins." Wait. That's not really a goal, is it. This is going to be harder than I thought.)

  1. Blogger Megan | 5:47 AM |  

    Heh, figuring out the logistics of the whole gym thing challenges me, too. How to enter and egress gracefully are still a bit puzzling to me. I don't quite understand why I can't just go stand on a moving belt in the gym (a la the airport) where automans will shower me, buff me, coif me and boot me out with a peice of candy in my pocket. Now that would be good.

    Damn those pesky goals. And pass the ham.

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