Actually, the real question is how long can I run before I want to just allow the spanx gods to take me into their arms and let the conveyor belt roll me off into the bright light. I know the importance of working out and cardio. Don’t get me wrong, I have been trying to lose weight off and on since the third grade. THE THIRD GRADE. Most people know this adorable little guy as a husky.
I however know husky to be what size pants I had to wear (elastic waistbands for the win!). Still, can we all just admit that there is a tiny moment of fear when stepping on the treadmill. The thing looks like you are running on a psychotic demon’s tongue or maybe that is just me and I am being melodramatic. I do have a tendency to be that way.Either way the treadmill and I have always had some battles. Granted part of that is due to my competitive nature. For example, when girls come in the gym with full makeup in the cute sets from Victoria’s Secret and they are already looking fabulous and I am sitting there rocking hobo bum chic in last years sweatpants and yesterday’s t-shirt.
I do not have the money nor the body for all that but I figure I can still get a good workout in. Then these girls have to saddle up next to me on my machine. All the machines in the 2 story gym and you had to sit next to me. I know that I may look like a busted can of biscuits slapped inside a sausage sleeve but I will be damned if you out gym me. So I start at a moderate level and am drenched in sweat while this girl is sprinting like she is Usain Bolt while maintaing and light girlish glow. WHAT THE HECK?!?!?!? Naturally, me and my asthmatic self decide we can’t let her win. I rev up my treadmill to the max and do not stop until she steps down in what I imagine to be pure shame and defeat (did she even look at or acknowledge me, no, but we are not talking about that). Then immediately after I have to race on wobbly legs for my inhaler and gasp for dear life while she continues to lift weights and then climb on the elliptical but I rewarded myself with chocolate chip cookies afterwards so we see who the real winner is.
This whole roundabout story is really just my way of saying that treadmills and I are not friends but I am trying to overcome my aggression towards them and run, walk, or maybe crawl my way onto one so I can stop looking like the Pillsbury dough boy and merely enjoy his marvelous creations (in moderation of course). Please let me know how your fitness journeys are coming or just delight yourself in laughing at mine. I will keep you guys updated and posted. Until then
The lady is out and she has gone
Rogue
Lady Gone Rogue 