Okay, that's kind of a lie. I'm sitting here, after eating a piece of pan dulce, eating a plate of lower sodium turkey bacon and one scrambled egg because I need to get in some protein so I can go to the gym and not fall apart after 15 minutes on the elliptical from a sugar crash.
Turkey bacon makes me a little angry. I know it means well, but it's not real bacon and it never will be. Any time I eat it, I think about that scene from the last Harry Potter movie.
Not that I'm calling Snape turkey bacon, because Snape is awesome, but let's face it - he was no Dumbledore in terms of being a great headmaster.
I've yet to see a difference on the scale regarding my weight. I don't even see a difference in my body. This makes the Crazy Eating Disordered Girl in me a little nuts. I mean, it's natural to want to see SOME progress. The only thing I can say is that I don't look quite as bloated but that's subjective.
The logical part of me knows that it's going to take some time. I know that I'm supposed to be putting on some muscle because I kind of don't have any. No, really. I have so much body fat on me, I cannot use the fat counter thing at the gym. It doesn't register.
Basically, I'm veal.
I know that in a month, I'm sure to start seeing a bit of a change in my body. The weight is sure to start dropping and things will be okay, but I'm part of The Biggest Loser crowd. I want to see a 30 pound loss in the first week. I know that isn't right, I know that their circumstances are much different than my own less than an hour workouts and free access to double cream cheese are. They work out 4-5 hours a day and are on a restricted diet and have 'round the clock care. Physically, I do what I can and then listen to SOMEONE complaining that there's nothing to eat for the rest of the day. 30 pounds in one week? Not happening for this girl.
But I feel different. I don't feel like dying when I walk across a parking lot into a store anymore. I don't hunt for the absolute closest parking space. [Actually, more on that in a minute.] I can get up from my chair without struggling too much. I feel good. Not great or anything, but a lot better than I felt when I walked into the gym for the first time. I know my diet still needs tweaking, but it's the exercise that has really made all the difference. I truly believe that.
Can I talk about the dumb tramps that go to my gym, though?
For the most part, everyone I've really met there has been helpful and supportive and genuinely kind. It's a place that I enjoy going to. But there are 3 types of women who go there that I want to punch in the face:
1. The Juice Bar Bunnies.
My gym has a nice little juice bar. You can get smoothies and fruit and water, stuff like that. But there are always a few women who seem to only come for the juice. I've yet to see them do more than 10-15 minutes on the elliptical before they're down there sucking on a straw. Honey, let me tell you - if this is all you're after, head down the road about half a mile and hit up Jamba Juice. You can walk around the parking lot if you're so inclined.
2. The Pretty Princesses.
Why are you at the gym in full makeup with your hair done? You're there to sweat, not pick up a man. Scrub off your mascara before your sweat makes it bleed into your eyes, scrape your hair back into a ponytail, and WORK OUT. I know you probably didn't just come from work being that I usually am there at 10 in the morning. Also? Stop taking up entire benches in the locker room with all your equipment while you sit and text. Some of us just want to put our purse up so we can do our thing. [Most of these women are Juice Bar Bunnies, too.]
3. The "Oh God, I Have To Do WHAT?" Wenches.
These women drive me nuts. They're outside hiding behind their cars smoking a cigarette before coming into the gym. They flit from machine to machine, not really breaking a sweat on any of them. They drive around the parking lot multiple times because they're looking for the closest parking space they can get. It's a gym! Walk a little further! AND STOP GETTING IN MY WAY.
I really should stop sitting here complaining about stuff and get off my own ass and go to the gym. Plus, my boyfriend woke up early, disturbed my quiet, and now I need to go work off some of my irritation.
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