Monday, February 9, 2015

Going to the gym is no laughing matter. Except to me. And maybe Christian Grey.

I have re-joined the gym. Again. 

Hate is a strong word, but it's safe to say that I hate working out. Every minute of it. Every millisecond of it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it.

But after I work out? I feel wonderful. I feel accomplished. I feel SUPERIOR to all the schmucks who aren't awesome enough to work out. (Apparently all those workout endorphins cloud my memory because after I work out I conveniently forget that I have worked out exactly TWICE in the last two years or so.)

Anyway, I have learned the only path to the Obnoxious Endorphin Power Ranger stage of post-workout bliss involves actually working out. Specifically, actually working out for at least 30 minutes. Any less than that and I just get to the "sweaty and cranky" stage. And to make myself do more than 30 minutes at a time, I pretty much have to distract myself. So I close my eyes and think of England. Wait, no. (Sorry, I have been reading alot of Brit Lit lately....) So I take my tablet and headphones with me to the gym and watch a TV show on Hulu or listen to an audiobook. Today I went the audiobook route. Audible had some book recommendations for me, but I went rogue and searched through the Romance genre, picking a title I'd never heard of before.

When I listen to an audiobook, I prefer to close my eyes and really get a good mental picture of the story being told. (Unless I'm listening to an audiobook while I'm driving. Then I just close my eyes to freak out my passengers.) Listening at the gym is no different. I get on the treadmill, start the audiobook, close my eyes and start walking. 

Today, I picked a chick lit book and got going, and I was not doing it half way. I had my headphones on,  eyes closed and was working up a pretty good boob sweat. (You ladies out there know what I'm talking about.)  And the book was turning out to be pretty funny. Not Molly Harper (my favorite chick lit author) funny, but definitely good for some hearty chuckles. 

I was really enjoying myself. (As much as one who hates to work out can enjoy herself in the gym, anyway.) And was really patting myself on the back for making such a great choice, particularly when a chapter ended right as I was starting to get tired. It was like the book was made to go with my workout. So before the next chapter started, I stopped the treadmill, opened my eyes, grabbed the towel to wipe off the face sweat and glanced to the right to make sure I wasn't about to run into to someone as I stepped off the treadmill. What I saw was a dude grinning at me from ear to ear. A dude who said "I gotta know what you've been listening to. You were really laughing." So yeah. I had had an audience. An audience that I hadn't noticed because my eyes were closed. Great. 

Now normally, as an only child, having an audience is a good thing. But when it's unintentional and I'm ugly sweating? Not so much. And having a dude talk to me? Sounds good, except that when I told him about the book, he said he'd have to recommend it TO HIS MOM. Young people are so rude these days.

Anyway, I have plans after work tomorrow, so my legs and my ego get an evening off from the gym. I'm not sure that when I go back on Wednesday I'll keep listening to the same story or not, but if I do, I'm secure in the thought that at least I'll just be laughing to myself. It could have been so much worse. How could it possibly be worse, you ask? Well, because the first audiobook in the list of Audible's recommendations for me was 50 Shades of Grey.

OH. HELL. NO.





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