smoking is more fun than running

I joined a gym about a month ago.

I know, I know, shut it.

The difference this time than my other 9000 attempts is that I’m actually GOING.  I am a professional at buying Boot Camp class Groupons and 60 day memberships through Living Social deals and never using them.  Seriously, I may as well have flushed those dollars right down the toilet.  I would tell myself as I ate my BLT in front of the computer how awesome it was going to be, I was going to do Boot Camp for a month and be totally ripped.  Click.   Purchase. 

Now, I guess all this being sober business has finally gotten the best of me and it’s time to transfer my addiction elsewhere.  I figured the gym would be a great place, and I was right.

Here’s the thing, I’ll let you in on a little secret…come close…as alcoholics and addicts we are really addicted to one thing, and that’s more. 

So, I got myself a trainer and am doing weights and cardio classes 4-5 times a week and it is kicking my ass.  I makes all those wonderful brain chemicals come out and play and sing and dance and I really feel fucking awesome after I go, but yes, getting there can still be a bitch of a battle.

But I hate the fucking elliptical, HATE IT.  I’d rather get analy raped with a tree branch by Willard Scott than get on that thing.  I can do the treadmill for a while but it’s boring as fuck.  And there is one thing I hate above all others, and that is running.  The only time I ever enjoyed running was if I was chasing a ball playing a sport.  If I could hire a group of rapists to chase me I’d probably be a killer runner though.  What a great business idea, 1-800-Hire A Rapist : Running Through Fear.

Did I mention I smoke?  Yeah, about a pack a day.  I know haters, shut it, I think it causes Cancer or something, yeah yeah yeah.  One vice at a time for the love of cock.

It does make the cardio a little (lot) more challenging.  Here I am in a Step class, breathing like I just ran the Boston Marathon 4 minutes in.  Then I spend the rest of the hour just trying not to die.  I like that I have to concentrate on all the moves up and down and over because it really helps to distract me from the fact that I’m about to have a cardiac arrest.  That’s why I do those classes though, because I’m OCD competitive and I would literally drop dead before I would walk out of a class.  So I just stare at my feet and will them up and down that step for an hour without tripping or falling, then, when it’s over, I celebrate with a Marlboro Light the minute I hit my car.

But so what, I’m doing it and I’m actually sticking to it.  My trainer fucking tortures me, I try to make him laugh a lot so that he will stop making me do so many reps but it never works.  Then he increases my weights and I spew obscenities at him on every push or pull or lift.  Then he just laughs at me and makes me do it all over again.  It’s a total fuck you session that I secretly enjoy and the banter makes it go by rather quickly.  He tries to trick-count on me a lot and I tell him that’s why he’s a trainer and ask if he needs help learning the alphabet.

So I essentially pay someone to motivate me.  It’s kind of awesome, I wish I could hire a personal trainer in other arenas of my life such as “laundry” and “writing” and “stop masturbating and clean the house”.  Is that considered a life coach?  Oh right, that’s considered a husband and I no longer have one.

On that note, if you need me I’ll be not doing laundry and masturbating before I have to head out to the gym.

Rock on.

37 replies

  1. Rutabaga is so right. John Wayne Gacy was a clown too. And that Ronald McDonald is a pedophile. When I use the eliptical, I pretend I am stomping on the face of someone who pissed me off. Usually my boss. It passes the time and I keep my job. Congrats on your efforts!

  2. This may be where I went wrong. I quit both drinking and smoking at the same time. Six months later I was 30 pounds heavier. I’ve managed to lose about ten over the last couple of months though, so not too bad. And just because I don’t smoke anymore doesn’t mean to don’t wheeze like a marathon runner also. All it takes for me is walking up the stairs to my apartment, but that is getting better.

  3. Tracy,
    I don’t care what your trainer says. I don’t care what anyone says, everyone is wrong: smoking is good for you. Take it from a non-smoking clown. Have one on me.
    Le Clown

  4. See, I love running, I run every single day, but I HATE elliptical and the treadmill makes me sick, literally, 15 minutes on a treadmill it’s hell, overall I hate gym, the whole socialization that gores on at a gym it’s rather repulsive to me, but that’s me and people skills.
    Le Clown it’s under attack on the comments just because he’s a clown, life it’s unfair, even for clowns.

  5. YAY! My most favorite part of going to the gym was ALWAYS my post-workout cigarette. Now I don’t smoke and life is a little bit (whole fuck of a lot) sadder, but I can still feel the amazingess as though it was yesterday.

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