A Work Out To Work Out.

8 Nov

It’s been one of those challenging “go to the gym and leg press more than your total body weight until you feel better about everything” days.

Thankfully it worked. 

I cannot tell you how much better, not just physically, but mentally, I am doing now that I’m a fairly regular attendee at the gym. 

Stressful day at work? Go to the gym. 

Cried yourself to sleep the night before? Early morning gym visit on your day off.

Want to look impossibly fly for your impending Class of 2014 University reunion? Drag your arse to the gym and get on a treadmill. 

It’s also nice when your boyfriend calls you whilst you’re at the gym, and then doesn’t believe you’re there because you don’t sound out of breath enough. It was like having a personal trainer who I didn’t constantly want to punch in the face. (This is why I am not getting a personal trainer. I would verbally abuse them and then be asked to leave.)

I have found the least flattering piece of gym equipment though, and it only took me three weeks. It’s the hip adductor. I didn’t even know “adductor” was a word until tonight, to be fair. (Don’t judge me, I still hate exercise.) It’s the strangest bit of resistance training I’ve ever seen, and even though it is very clear in its ability to tone your inner thighs and “pelvic region”, it’s basically just an opportunity for you to make everyone awkwardly look at your genitals. Not that I was doing that to other people, because the gym was blissfully quiet this evening. I was just very aware that I was wearing cycling shorts and kept pulling my shirt down and sitting on it. 


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