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I’d like to take a moment to apologize to all of the gym rats out there. I’m sorry. I completely understand this is the absolute worst time of year for you, and I’m not helping at all.
It’s the new year, which means it’s time to work off all of my holiday weight. In fact, you might remember me from last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. And basically every January since I graduated college. It’s getting to be an annual thing, and it seems as if every winter, I become chubbier than Bridget Jones.
Listen, I get it. I understand tomorrow is shoulders and chest day, and I’ll probably make you wait to use the bench press. In fact, I might even ask you for a spot on an amount of weight that you normally curl. Please just humor me, give me a spot, throw in a few “C’mon, you got this!” motivational phrases, and I’ll be in and out. I promise. My arms are softer than wet noodles, and wet noodles can’t lift very much weight.
Most of my workouts only last about forty-five minutes, anyway. In fact, nearly twenty of those minutes include me untangling my iPod headphones, followed by ten more minutes of just flexing in the mirror. Plus, the deeper into the month of January we get, the “busier” I’ll get and the shorter my workouts will become. Heck, by late January, I’ll probably come in, stretch, pretend to get a very important email, quickly grab my coat, and just leave altogether.
I understand I’m not the only problem. There’s a large majority of us. We come in every January and use up more treadmills than an OK Go music video. There are so many of us and we force you to do your curls standing shoulder-to-shoulder with us in front of the mirror. Or, I guess I should say shoulder-to-really-large-shoulder.
Trust me, I’m no Tony Perkis. I mean, even my mother gave me a Groupon for a six-week ab class for Christmas, because I think she’s subtly trying to tell me I’m getting fat. I’ll be honest, I’m probably only going to show up for two or three of those classes.
Let’s make a deal. I’ll “work out” for a few weeks, using as little gym equipment as possible. I won’t take too long at the water fountain, and I won’t make grunt noises while I lift. After those few weeks, you won’t hear from me or see me for another eleven and a half months. I promise I’ll be gone by next month, especially considering next month is Febru-any. I’ll convince myself that I can lose the rest of my excess weight by just eating a lot of Subway, like Jared did.
Listen, I’m not looking to better my life by checking off a number of items on a list that you’d find in a self-help book. If anything, my life is more of a choose your own adventure book, and the adventure I choose is to binge-watch House of Cards instead of working on my deltoids and lats.
Again, I’m sorry for not being a “regular” and taking up gym space. After January, I won’t do it again until 2016..