My husband stopped our membership at the gym. He decided that if we put a treadmill, weights, and a bike in our guest room, we would have our own personal in-house gym. We’ll be able to work out every day at our convenience. The funny thing is that he actually believes that I will use this equipment. God love him! He is ever the optimist!
When we belonged to the gym, everyone knew him when he checked in. When I checked in, they treated me like a total stranger. I found this very unfriendly. Whatever happened to Southern hospitality? I’m sure I went at least eight times in the past six months. I was the one who requested white zinfandel at the yogurt bar. Am I so unforgettable?
I know some women who love to work out, but I am not so inclined. I’m actually more the reclined type. My husband is absolutely mystified that I don’t share his love for exercise.
He loves to sweat. He says it makes him feel alive. At sixty-four, he still loves the gym. He trots on the treadmill every day. His sneakers squeak on the rubber tread. He is so busy singing along with his MP-3 player, he has no idea that he squeaks. Sometimes, he holds an imaginary microphone and sings aloud to Metallica’s Sandman. And that’s when I head for the yogurt bar.
I just don’t feel so inspired while sweating. I start to get woozy after just turning the treadmill on. When that happens I know I need to dash for the automated ice-cream machine to bring my blood sugar levels back up. Note that I am very concerned about my health. The ice cream also prevents osteoporosis, so it’s a double blessing. I think that the toffee-nut crunch fudge bar works best.
I always ask people how they’ve lost weight, but I’m not thrilled with their answers. “Cut down on sweets, exercise, and drink more water.” Boring! I’m holding out for a chocolate-covered pill that will do it all. It would be even better if it whitened my teeth, thickened my hair, and firmed my thighs. Just last night, I had a dream that there’s a new guaranteed weight loss peach cobbler martini! I’m breaking into a sweat just thinking about the possibilities.
Years ago, in my youth, I was so thin that my hipbones actually stuck out. I looked like a commercial for a hip replacement, but I thought it was a great look. Now I can’t even find those bones. I think they’re well disguised by my anti-osteoporosis remedy. I tried to poke in there and find them, but I must be doing a really good job with that toffee nut crunch. Great news, though—I have the strongest bones on earth!
Scott would be very proud of my crunches. It would break his heart if he knew I was actually crunching my toffee-nut fudge bar instead of my stomach muscles. Since summer is just a few months away, I’m starting to think that I should try this workout thing again. I’ll need a fridge for my sugar fix. Naturally, I’ll need new clothes and a shorter haircut. Oh, and more good news: The treadmill has a built-in fan. I’ll look like a model with my hair blowing in the wind. I just hope it doesn’t melt my toffee-nut fudge crunc