That time I broke old habits
Every new year I vow to make changes, set goals, establish new habits, and eat less cheese. Notice I didn’t say “make resolutions”? Resolutions seem so finite and so hard. The others give me loop holes and grey area and room to justify failure and wine. Every new year, I am off the goal wagon by month three and up to my ears in Colby jack and chardonnay.
I am determined to make this year different. It feels different, already. I joined a gym and with the help of Jen Sincero, I am setting “badass habits”. If you don’t know her, let me introduce you- she is my new best friend, motivator, accountability coach, and like most of the boys in high school, she doesn’t even know I exist. But, if you read one book this year, let it be ‘You are a Badass’, by Jen Sincero and she will be your best friend, too. I won’t spoil it for you but I will say, I now have triceps and my Real Estate license thanks to her. It’s not your average self-help book. It is a call to action, kick in the ass. Do yourself a favor and READ IT (click the link, thank me later).
The gym. Y'all heard me correctly. I have been going, which means, at the urging of my trainer I took the ever horrific “before” pictures. Or, as I like to call them the “albino potato muffin that’s been assaulted with a bag of nickels" pictures. It was actually suggested that I have my husband take said pictures. Insanity.
So, I am past the point of needing supplemental oxygen but not nearly to the point of loving it yet. I go. That’s my win. Brent goes with me and like most men with anything diet or fitness; he has been annoyingly more motivated and successful than me. I tried to kick him off my team but he refused so I doubled his pasta portions at dinner to level the playing field.
I am a people watcher. I like to create a story for everyone. So, naturally, the first few visits were fairly unproductive and mostly spent complaining and figuring out the hierarchy and subculture of this new-to-me fitness world. This is what I came up with and I’ve narrowed it down for the sake of space but every gym has some variation of these characters.
-The Banty Rooster – strutting and drawing every kind of attention to himself in his jogger pants and toboggan while casually taking selfies for Tinder in front of the free weights and appearing to be so into his music that he doesn’t notice anyone noticing him. Most popular.
-The obscene noise maker- you can’t look but you can’t look away but it makes you both completely intrigued and horribly uncomfortable. You are fearful for his internal organs.
-The “Props to his legs for holding up his giant uterus shaped torso” guy.
-The “I’m just going to sit on this machine with my flawless hair and makeup, sipping my fruit infused water and talking on my phone while you are clearly waiting but I’ll act like I don’t see you” girl. Note: This girl can also be spotted in Home Depot, and Tractor Supply, depending on her taste
-The naked 70’s time warp locker room lady with no true concept of personal space. She is proud of all of her and you’ll probably wind up being touched by her boob at some point.
-The professional- they know exactly what they are doing, display the perfect balance of muscle and vulnerability, they look the part and you might want to be friends. This is the one you try and follow without sending stranger danger vibes.
-Then there is me, the “Brent pull the truck around, I’m going to need another glucose tablet and I think the hole in my leggings just got bigger” girl.
We are also doing the Whole30 on our quest to health, change, and self-deprivation. Why water board our enemies when we can take away their grains, soy, dairy, sugar, alcohol, and soul? That’s another post and another reason for me to be mad at my husband.
Buy the book. We’ll talk soon!