I used to enjoy being physically active. Back in the days when I was svelte, childless and free to pinch any man’s ass. It was not a big deal for me to strap on my running shoes and go pound pavement. All through my school years I was the track star. If I wasn’t running in circles on a track you could find me dribbling a ball and shooting hoops on a court.
Slowly my enthusiasm for sweat started to deteriorate. Somewhere around the third child. It became progressively harder to motivate myself to move. Why get up early to go for a jog when I would be running my ass off all day chasing small children?
It’s been a few years since I’ve swung a bat, tied up my laces or treaded any water. Since Bug’s passing, I’ve become a model couch potato. My cushions on the sofa can prove it. Unfortunately, so can my ass cheeks. Which have slowly started to spread and recently, I’ve heard murmurs of a plan for global domination.
To the outside world, I look fit. That would be because I squeeze my lard-like thighs into a denim casing and hope that I don’t rip a seam. Which I did this weekend. As I bent down to pick up a hammer, I busted out of my pants. Literally. Good thing I was wearing underwear or it could have been really ugly…
But looking trim and being fit are two different things. I can always buy bigger pants and a stronger girdle. (Shudder.) However, that isn’t going to help me stop huffing and puffing up my drive way or allow me to actually bike ride with my kids without wishing for a car to run me over and put me out of my misery. Anything to stop the pain.
It is time to embrace fitness. In actuality and not just theory. Time to get off my duff and start moving before the jelly rolls I call my stomach stage a coup d’etat and start a cult worshipping the donut. It is time for me to join a gym.
So I did. Reluctantly. And petulantly. While wishing I was one of those trim beings who could inhale whatever they wanted and still look like a starving supermodel.
As I was filling in my application form, I eyed the few people who were working out. There was one girl who looked like Twiggy. Bitch. The few others ranged in ages forty upwards. That would work. Surely I could run circles around the grannies.
Right? Wrong. Those seniors could beat me down with one osteoporosis-riddled bony arm tied behind their back. I decided that is how I want to be when I grow up. A pumped up Grannie.
Focusing my attention back to the forms before me, I dutifully filled in the questions about my health and lifestyle.
What inspired you to pay an arm and a leg to join our gym and publicly humiliate yourself amongst others?
The jiggling of my ass kept calling to me. I couldn’t make out if it wanted me to go to a donut store or join a gym, so I just took a stab in the dark.
What results are you looking to achieve after months of dues being taken out of your account without you actually darkening our door?
I’m hoping to be able to bend over with out splitting my pants in front of my husband ever again. He’s likely to laugh about that and hold it over my head for a long time. It wouldn’t hurt to be able to actually be able to walk up my drive without huffing like I just ran a triathlon either.
What part of your body would you like our trained professional body Nazi’s to target and beat into shape for you?
Any part that jiggles. Except my boobs. I’ve grown to love my new B-cup status. The fat seems to firm them up and they don’t droop as low as they once did.
Scanning the documents to see if I answered all the questions and signed my life away entirely, I handed the papers back to the fitness guru standing before me. I handed over my credit card, made a mental note to buy some yoga pants that fit and a new sports bra and looked around for the exit.
My jelly rolls need to be eased into activity. Right now they think exercise is something I do in the dark, in bed when my husband is home. I want to break it to them gently.
I figured I’d start on Monday. I was winded just by signing the credit card charge. I don’t want to overdo it right off the hop and experience any permanent damage.

42 Comments
Yay for you! You do know, though, don’t you, that if you start out slowly by just WEARING fitness apparel, that counts as half a workout!
AND if you order fast food with a DIET soda, you’re okay.
AND dark chocolate is healthy.
AND ice cream has calcium.
You’re welcome.
[Reply]
Can you work out for me while you’re at it? LOL
[Reply]
I loved my gym: 2 hours of childcare, TVs on the workout equipment, able to charge all kinds of goodies onto my little membership card (oh how I love to charge), swimming pools and practically empty in the afternoon.
What I hated about my gym: the money that flew out of my account every month, the fact that they put tasty treats like soda and candy for me to charge after my workout (I earned it, right?), the sweat (hey, I thought this place was air conditioned), the naked old women in the locker room and I DIDNT LOSE ONE DAMN POUND IN A YEAR. Yeah, Yeah I know it was my own fault. My body has already declared a coup d’ etat and their mission is to lay around, eat everything in sight and get fat. Can’t fight city hall.
Good Luck
[Reply]
I’m totally with Sarah.
I find a way to justify anything—but these brownies have NUTS and that means PROTEIN! or I made OATMEAL cookies and OATMEAL is a WHOLESOME food!
Wish I could motivate my fat ass into a gym.
Eh.
[Reply]
Create some motivation to go to the gym regularly. Mrs. Joe and her friend go out for drinks after they go to Pilates class.
[Reply]
Mmm…jelly rolls…just added to grocery list - thanks for reminding me! :-p
[Reply]
Jiggling is sexy, dude. It IS.
[Reply]
This is deja-vu. I felt the same way when I joined a gym in February. I went every other day until the end of June and skipped July and Aug. I’m too lazy to go back, but now I probably should.
[Reply]
Jelly rolls my ass.
You are the hotness.
liar liar pants on fire.
(besides, you’re going to guilt me into this and I can only take one thing at a time … my body’s still in alcohol detox)
[Reply]
Sex is exercise
you could increase your sex life
Now I am not saying with whom, that is up to you, but I mean, think of doing the nasty for 30 minutes to start, building to 60 minutes of let it out Jesusssss I cant come now, I have to do this for another 10 minutes sex.
I bad
LOL
[Reply]
A great website for all to help is http://www.motivationtomove.com. The premise is to find something to do everyday for 100 days, anything from walking, the gym, elliptical. They have podcasts available for download, a great community of users that support each other, message boards where you can post for all to see your goals, your progress and the trials and tribulations that we all have towards our goals.
Check it out.
[Reply]
Oh my! Congratulations on signing your right to have the devil work you to death. I’d say to just have sex on a daily basis…but Boo might have some objection to that…since he’s hardly ever home.
Can’t wait to hear the stories about the osteoperosis-riddened ladies kicking your butt at aerobics.
[Reply]
Go you! Do some sit-ups for me while you’re at it, will ya? And maybe run a mile or two for me too? I only run when chased.
[Reply]
The gym and I have a confirmed love/hate relationship in that I love to hate it….feeling your pain on world domination of the ass, tho.
[Reply]
I have had 3 differant memberships to gyms only to waste my money … if you get motivated … motivate for me too!
[Reply]
Going to the gym is a habit like brushing your teeth. Eventually you feel strange not going to the gym, but it takes time and effort and sweat. But it’s fun, yeah, that’s right, it’s fun.
I’ve got a few years on you and I’ve been comtemplating liposuction to suck the fat out of my belly but that seems so vain. I do hate that feeling of my belly sitting on top of my thights when I’m sitting on the toilet. Now there’s an image to spur you onto exercise.
[Reply]
Good for you! I think you look fine - but only you know how you feel. And if you feel you have jiggly bits that need firming up - then it’s fab you’re doing something about it.
Uhm, I’ve awarded you an award;)..come have a peek (posted it today).
xo
[Reply]
Good on you, T. Just think of the muscles you will grow!
I go to the gym just twice a week, but have become pretty fit (what with running around with my kids and doing house and yard work as well). I love it when some pert twenty-year-old comes in to the cardio-box class wearing skimpy shorts, but can’t keep up with wrinkly old me. It’s my only way of feeling good these days - being cute is gone, but being fit is still attainable!!
Have fun finding your inner athlete again!
[Reply]
I wish you luck and hope you never have to fill out the stupid “Why are you quitting the gym” form like I have a zillion times.
“I’d rather eat cake,” I wrote on one of them.
[Reply]
sigh.
you on about us seniors again?
I could take your butt out anyday with the biceps I have.
Get yourself a trainer, maybe he (or she if you are an equal opportunity employer will be as fetching as mine).
[Reply]
Please. You are too svelte. I was about to pack up all my hot mama skinny clothes and send them to you, bitch.
And I started walking every other morning.
I’m hoping that at least cancels out the nightly beers.
[Reply]
There is such a thing as the ultimate sex diet (google it for details) but as has been previously said, Boo probably wouldn’t want you doing that one without him. You could skip the gym on the days he’s home, though…
[Reply]
I’m really horrible, I just can’t fit exercize into my schedule. I work 50+ hours a week, plus have a 1 and 3 year old at home. ANY SPARE MINUTE (wait….what are those?) is spent on my pillow….oh sweet pillow, I neglect you too much.
[Reply]
Aren’t you going all healthy - first, giving up the smokes and now, the gym?
It’s quite impressive.
[Reply]
Oh fuck, don’t even make me think about the gym. I’ve just learned I can get a cheap membership at my school. I’ve been eating too much cheese and drinking too much wine lately, and I really need to go. But, you know? It’s about the last fucking thing I want to do right now (can you tell I’ve been drinking wine tonight by the number of f-bombs in this comment!)
[Reply]
Are you and Karen-Vodkarella going to the same gym? Sounds like you both had the same ah-ha moment this week.
Good luck to you. You have lots of support from me. And, while I should consider joining you on this quest…I was hoping to wait for the New Year’s gym specials myself. I just hate peer pressure!!! So, looks like I will have to the head to the gym sooner now that there is a “bloggers for thinner thighs” movement happening.
Smiles!
Erin
[Reply]
I’ve been OFF since July. Can’t get my workout groove back.
[Reply]
That’s one giant step ahead of me.
[Reply]
Bahaha. That’s great that you’re going and everything but…
I’m glad it’s you and not me.
I should definitely head to the gym seeing as how my son left 20 pounds of fat between my ass and my boobs when he vacated my uterus though…
[Reply]
I hate jiggly parts. I always tell my husband not to get too vigorous when we’re doin the deed because I hate when my jiggly parts get goin. ‘Course that takes the fun out of it so I need to follow your lead and get me and my jiggly parts in to the gym.
[Reply]
I am rolling over here. Laughing, that is. I’m not talking about my own fat parts.
[Reply]
You KNOW what happens to me at the gym and I still HATE to go.
‘Nuff said.
[Reply]
You’re my hero. You’re my inspiration. You’d better watch out, or I’m going to start singing cheesy 80s ballads to you.
Now I’m going to go eat a donut.
[Reply]
Uuuuhhh, yeah. I walked twice on my treadmill this week for 20 minutes, 3.5 MPH and a 5.5 incline.
That kicked my fat ass for the rest of the week! Something must be in the air. I’m plotting my return to Weight Watchers. For me it was a photo of my rotund self taken by my sister on the beach in July. I cannot believe I wore a bathing suit.
[Reply]
I decided to start walking again. Although, now that I found out I am preggo again, I really won’t be losing weight, BUT if I can keep it up this time, maybe it won’t be so hard to get back into the routine after the baby comes around.
[Reply]
I don’t know if you do memes or not, but if you have nothing better to do, I tagged you for one =]
[Reply]
Can I join and walk the treadmill next to you? I mean, yeah, I’d have to fly halfway around the world just to enter the gym…but I’m up for it.
[Reply]
I have decided to live vicariously thru you, so I figured I’m covered. No gym for me, yeah!!!! Thanks
[Reply]
hey babe
I’m with my bud and i finally got to read your post. Hey how about that…. I’m literate!?… Well, kind of… Hey, don’t worry babe if the boob size goes down with the wieght?…… what ever!, the boys say that they will totally chip in for a resize…. maybe a C or D. Hey, Hey…. How you doin’?
You should know by now that you are all I long for love, but the girls are really nice!
love Boo
[Reply]
I’m in the same boat, who knew that sitting on your ass writing code all day long would make it expand like the universe. But, I’m struggling with the “can I afford it” phase though. I probably should be thinking “can I afford not to”.
The worst thing about paying for a gym membership is the fact the sweat’s not included
You have to make your own!
[Reply]
I love the “denim casing” imagery!
I have the kind of body that looks good in clothes and gets a little scarier with each layer I peel off. I heartily welcome the return of autumn with its requirement that folks wear several layers of casing…
[Reply]
I’ve had a gym fee taken out of my account every month for 1 1/2 years. I won’t shame myself publicly be admitting just how few times I’ve actually darkened the gym’s doors in that amount of time.
My husband says I must hate money since I insist on giving it away to the gym every month.
[Reply]