Why do we work out?
To lower cholesterol?
To decrease our chances of type 2 diabetes?
To boost our metabolism?
Quite frankly, we want a hot bod.
The dating scene requires a figure that appeals and in order to get this you must somehow participate in physical activity.
Sports are well….sports and therefore not our specialty. Moving on.
What a freaky, scary, intense place. Weights, ellipticals, treadmills, and women whose triceps are bigger than our thighs. Needless to say, we lose more weight worrying about looking like a rookie at the gym than we do on the actual spinning contraption.
What’s a girl to do?
We are left with our only option.
We’re not the kind of girls who flat iron their hair then whirl it into a super high pony tail with their ipod strapped to their golden arms, decked out in their full Nike running gear.
That is not us.
Our jogging is a loose term for walking with tiny spurts of running. But we try. We run our little hearts out. We run until our faces resemble that of an umpa lumpa and blisters bombard our poor innocent heels.
Seeing familiar faces on a jog is always lovely as you feel the pressure to quicken your pace or wipe the sweat that is cascading down your nose. Ever been honked at by a stranger? Creepy! What about someone you know? They will never look at you the same way.
But at the end of the day, the ease of zipping up your pants gives you greater pleaser than if you had stayed home and watched another episode of Lost.
Never mistake motion for action. – Ernest Hemingway
Char and Gertie