sweat. sweat. sweat.

I fucking LOVE working out. ….well, ok, that’s not entirely true. I LIKE working out. Sometimes it’s frustrating as hell. Most of the time I’m happy I did it. And it makes me feel better about the cocktails and cigarettes I have later. I have a strange, yet effective, system of justification.

Yesterday I went to my current Tuesday class, spinning. No other class makes me sweat like this. The first time I tried it I thought my heart would explode, but now I can make it through an entire class without wanting to barf… much. I’m not joking about the perspiration, either. My entire head/hair/body is soaked when I leave. I suppose it is slightly embarrassing, but pour la plupart it feels refreshing, like I got a bunch of shit out of my system. Given my excessive drinking and smoking lately, I’ve needed those intense workouts to push out the toxins… or dying unicorns, whatever the hell my liver secretes. All I know is it makes me feel better.

Plus, extra bonus: spin class makes my lady parts feel funny sometimes. Like when we used to climb the rope in gym class (movie reference…. anyone?). Tee hee, wink.

In general, I try to mix up my workouts as much as possible. Falling into a routine  just gives your body the opportunity to find the most efficient way to survive the torture. Translation, unfortunately: you inevitably burn fewer calories the longer you succumb to said routine. I have a weight lifting class that I absolutely love, but I have to put it on the back burner every couple of months or so. Otherwise, I get bored and fatter. Ew. So, I throw in jogging, spinning, Zumba, my own weight lifting, and this fun new class I’m trying called Body Combat: basically mixed martial arts cardio. (GREEEAT workout for your upper back, shoulders, glutes and hip flexors). I’m determined to bring in swimming laps at some point, but I’m a little embarrassed to admit that for some reason I can’t swim in a straight line….not really surprising though, if you knew my track record with most physical pursuits:

I’ve been a gym goer since the ripe ol’ age of 13. Swear to god. I started going because I didn’t have the standard childhood outlet of team sports. Why? Because my parents worked and I have no hand/eye coordination whatsoever. Well, unless you count being a drum major in marching band… but that’s not really a relevant source of toning now that I have no reason to conduct beyond the occasional car jam. Beyond that, I always shied away from any kind of physical activity, because my clumsiness made me a little insecure. So I stuck to my headphones and my elliptical, sheltered and safe from public ridicule.

Now, I’m trying to make a change. I’m trying to incorporate more active things in my life. That may seem weird to some people, but I trend towards inactive socializing. Going to a bar, going out to eat, watching a movie. I’ll still do those things, because I love those things. But I’m striving to evolve. To play some darts instead of plunking down on a bar stool; going out dancing (which I am now secure enough to do, and am no longer limited to my bedroom, yay!) instead of sitting in front of a cocktail and plate of fries, etc. I want to try new things, things I’ve never had the drive to try before, for whatever reason: whether it’s being tied down by shyness, people, or obligations.

Incidentally, my boss loves to mountain bike, something I haven’t done since I was a teenager. I no longer own one, but my mom does! So I’m gonna go out riding this weekend on his recommended trail. Booya. You can come with me if you want; I’d love the company. So long as you promise to help me up when I inevitably fall and kiss my scraped knee. Minimal snickering, please.

Current Jam: uh….. Indie Dance station on Pandora. Lots of Foster the People.

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