So last night I ventured back to the gym. I wish I could say that I’ve missed the gym after many months of abstaining from exercise, but that just isn’t the case. But it was fine. It was very quick, because I decided, in a total panic after stepping on the scale (which I have been avoiding as of late out of fear) to go to the gym only an hour before it closed (damn you, Biggest Loser for making me feel inspired!). So I scrambled around, getting dressed and trying to remember everything I needed for my gym bag – water bottle, gym card, iPod, face towel, and took off. Anyway, I did a quick little workout, and that was that.
Is it bad that the main reason I’m thinking about going back is that I when I got there I found that the gym had installed tvs at every machine? Now I’m picturing myself settling in on the treadmill for three hours worth of Thursday night programming (as if, seriously). Although I have my doubt that the other gym patrons really want to hear my weekly commentary/rant during episodes of the mysterious and utterly frustrating Lost. And don’t even get me started on The Bachelor (seriously, ladies, keep your panties to yourself on date one). But is it really so wrong that the only thing that could possibly get my lazy ass off of the couch and to the gym on a regular basis is my love of tv?
If it is wrong, then I don’t want to be right. And maybe next time I’ll go back they’ll have cookies there, too. Aahhh, a girl can dream.
