Saturday, October 20, 2012

I'm A Big, Fat Quitter and It's Cool

Yesterday I did something I've been putting off since June. I quit the gym.

Yep, I marched into the gym during the busiest part of the work-out day and boldly looked into the face of the young, lean, guy behind the counter and said, "I need to cancel my membership."

Now, it's not that I don't need the gym, or that it didn't make me feel good or that I wasn't seeing results, it's simply that I was not motivated to go. I'm not blind. I know I need to go to the gym. My genetically passed down pear shape has been growing and morphing into what more closely resembles a butternut squash and I explained this to the gym attendant/fitness Nazi.
It's kind of like a pear, but a lot bigger.

Of course I couldn't just quit, I needed to be reminded that by quitting my gym I was not just giving up I was putting my very life a stake. This was done in the kindest and most condescending of ways all while I stood under a 15 foot (I'm bad with measurements.) sign that read "No Judgement". Seriously. I'm only exaggerating this a little bit.

I kind of thought that this would be a big deal. That as soon as I quit I'd end up walking to the Chinese buffet next door to the gym (no joke!) and easing my sorrow with an all-you-can-eat marathon of epic proportions or that I'd end up face-down in a pie before the night was over, but you know what? It didn't happen.

What I did instead was go to the mall. With my husband and son in tow I had a sensible spanokopita combo at Jimmy the Greek and then bought a pair of skinny jeans and some cute boots.

I'm tired of feeling uncomfortable in my own skin. I know I need to exercise and eat better and I'm committed to making those changes but right now I'm more committed to feeling happy, to spending time with my family and doing things I enjoy no matter how sedentary those things are.

So let's raise a glass of whatever suits your fancy, be it a wheat grass shake, tall, cold Dr. Pepper or pomegranate margarita without the salt, to loving the skin we're in. To wearing size 16 skinny jeans or size 0 sweats, to laughter as a way to ab definition and having as much and to working however much junk in your trunk you've got.


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