Workin it

If you haven't caught on already, I am not an athletic person. If the company that makes Peeps made marshmallow people (Peeps! My peeps! ha ha get it? People. Peeps. Oh never mind.) Anyway...I would be one of those marshmallow people.

Although it is true that I am bored a great deal of the time, I try to refrain from kidnapping and murder. So because of my marshmallowiness and my complete and total exhaustion, I would do something good for me and start back up at the gym. Perhaps I could trick my body into thinking that it doesn't feel like shit.

To get ready for the gym, one must first find one's gym clothes underneath all the fat clothes in one's closet. Then one must stuff one's fat ass into spandex pants much like filling a sausage casing. It is at this point that one must berate oneself for letting oneself get to the point of disgusting slobbery and weep with shame just a little bit. Then one must talk oneself into finishing getting dressed and going through with the whole gym thing regardless. Because if you don't you're just going to get fatter and uglier and no one will love you, not even your cats. After squeezing into a spandex top and covering that with a long sleeved top that is a size too big, one must put on the special expensive shoes one needs for one's gross wide Hobbit feet and head out into the public.

Okay so maybe not everyone gets ready to work out in the same way, maybe that's just me. So Friday after I got dressed (and was looking quite sporty I might add) I went to visit a friend and have coffee. I don't usually have coffee anymore because the caffeine makes me wrangy, I've had to switch to tea. But that afternoon I did have coffee, thinking it would be okay because the nervous energy could be used up at the gym. After my visit when I was on the way to the gym the coffee kicked in. My morning poop (which was sadly absent) was now arriving in the afternoon. Great. I'm in a slight panic at this point because I'm on the highway and no where near a toilet. I know that you know what I'm talking about, am I right? Well I made it to the YMCA (workout central) and rushed to the nearest restroom only to be greeted by an employee cleaning said restroom. Great. I couldn't even get to crap in peace. However I am a trooper and what needs to be done, must be done and so it was done. I hadn't lifted a single weight and already I had a great sense of accomplishment.

A lot of people like to listen to music when exercising. I however, like to people watch.
People like :

1) The senior men that wear a button down shirt and old school sweatpants with dress shoes as their workout gear.

2) The women that work out so much that they look like their pre-pubescent selves or extremely effeminate men.

3) Young men that try to prove their manliness by lifting huge amounts of weight and making tons of noise while doing it.

4) The douche that used the restroom and upon exiting, shouted across the room to his buddies his recommendation of NOT using the restroom until it cleared up.

5) The girls with tight, light coloured workout clothes that have embarrassing sweat marks...CROTCH SWEAT!!

People watching is fun. In fact it's one of the reasons I hate being on the treadmill. You see I have a substantial ass. And when you have a substantial ass and choose to run, that substantial ass moves in ways you do not intend. So I imagine that me and my ass are quite entertaining to watch. But now that I'm going to be a monster work out Queen that jiggling mass that I sit on will become quite firm and shapely...fingers crossed.

Say YES to a fine bit of ass.