We got back from Canada on Sunday and I have finally caught up on sleep and laundry so I decided it was time to restated my workout.
So I am sitting on the side of the track at the Y trying to stop sweating. Remember… I sweat like a man and it is gross. Canada did not cure that.
While I am sitting here I am observing my fellow daytime workout-ers.
The old person class is going on and I love walking around and watching. These people are old and they are working out in chairs. It is awesome to see their blingedout canes next to them. Many of the woman have Sunday make-up on. They are doing leg and arm circles and tossing a hot pink koosh ball around. There is an old man in the group and you can tell a few of the woman are showing off for him. It is so cute.
There is the wanna be meat head in the free weights wearing flip flops and swimming trunks. I want to scream “dude the pool is downstairs” and push him off the bench he is just chilling on. But then I remembered I don’t do free weights.
I am about cooled down so I am out. Please, though, share some of your sweaty observations with me.
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I have been going to the gym fairly regularly this summer and I am starting to question my look. When I work out I sweat.
Like.. man sweat.
It is gross, really.
I have never really cared about this as I am WORKING OUT. Isn’t that the point?
I am happily married and pretty confident in who I am. I accept my place in the world of “But she has a great personality.” It is all good. I know that when I make an effort, I can look pretty good but I am not a traffic stopper. Maybe the meat heads dropping the free weights take a peak every now and then but that is as far as any checking out will ever go with me.
After doing 45 mins on the elliptical, working my (nonexistent) abs and doing 50 (girl) push ups today, though, I walked by the mirrors and took a look at myself.
OH! MY! LORD!
People! Why didn’t you tell me I looked so gross? I was splotchy! I had hair sticking to my face, my neck, up in the air.
Those guys weren’t checking me out as they were lifting weights. They were horrified. They were probably looking at me like I look at “The Real Huusewives of Wherever”- I hate what I see but I can’t stop myself.
How do I fix this? Maybe the girls in full make up, hair. hoop earrings, and cute workout gear are not really trying to pick up men at the gym. Maybe they just don’t want end up looking like a sweaty, red-splotched oaf like me!
What is your take on how you look at the gym? Do you go glam or gross? Would you judge me?
I am prime example of why you should not go to the grocery store on an empty stomach. (related: I did not have a list, either)
At 9pm tonight (after a meeting whose timing caused me to eat an apple in the car for dinner) I went to Walmart to get snacks for our trip to Canada.
Here’s what I put in my cart (I probably should have gotten a basket instead so I wouldn’t have grabbed so much):
Mixed Nuts, M&Ms, and raisins to make snack mix
Peanut butter crackers
I started feeling guilty about what I had gathered. But instead of putting things back, I headed to the produce section where I added grapes, apples, watermelon, bell peppers and a pineapple.
As I looked at my cart I started to question whether we would be able to eat all of this food. It is an 18 hour drive. I decided that, since we can’t take the produce across the border, I would put the bell peppers and pineapple back.
I headed towards the checkout and realized I forgot Twizzlers. I went back to the candy aisle and grabbed the Twizzlers. I threw in some Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups for good measure.
At the register, I grabbed a Diet Coke and a snickers bar for
the drive home dinner. Thus the reason it is almost midnight and all of the snacks have been portioned out into snack bags, all the fruit is washed, cut and ready to eat. As I look at my pile, I am starting to feel really worried about our junk food consumption on our drive.
What do you think about snacks on the road?
I have been taking the boys to the YMCA everyday this summer. They hang out in the childcare area while I get my sweat on. I have yet to lose any weight. More importantly, though, I haven’t lost my sanity.
Anyway, while they were in “Kids Kove” today, they were coloring in Christmas coloring books. This led to a very long and very intense discussion with the boys about Santa Clause. I did not do much speaking- just a lot of “Uh huhs” and “Really?” and a couple of “You thinks?” thrown in for good measure. They came to the following conclusions:
- Santa brings gifts but not the really good ones- those come from the grandparents.
By the way… Papa if you are reading this they are asking for a trampoline from you for Christmas
- It is important to be good all year because Santa watches more than just Christmas time.
I think I need to get an elf on the shelf or something for this one to really work
- Even though Santa watches all year, we can’t call the Naughty or Nice hotline right now because Santa spends his summers on the beach in Hawaii.
Dude suggested we head there to talk to him instead of going to Canada this summer.
After we got through the Santa Clause we headed to the pool. I love going to the pool at the Y primarily because there is never anyone else there. Also, it is inside so I don’t have to deal with sunscreen or heatstroke.
So while we are changing (in the handicap stall in the women’s restroom because I am afraid of creepers and won’t send the boys into the men’s restroom by themselves) the boys brought up an interesting topic.
Dude “Why do I have wear underwear?”
Me “To protect your junk.”
Dude “I think my junk feels better without underwear. I don’t think I should have to wear it anymore.”
Bubba “I kinda like it when I don’t have underwear touching my junk. I think I will go without it, too.”
Note: They did not wear their underwear home.
This afternoon we were shucking corn (the hubs’ grandpa brought us 150 ears last night) and started getting crazy with the corn. I will let you use your imagination on this one but I will say… they have started junior high behavior way too early. All I want to know is: How is it that we had an intense Santa Clause discussion only 6 hours earlier?
Wish me luck with these crazy boys.