hooray for me I started working out again.
and I have to make a confession. I'm really ridiculously vain while I'm at the gym.
However, I promise you there is a rhyme and reason to this. its not purely empty shallow behavior, there is a motive behind it.
and it goes a little something like this...
I am not a runner. at all. ask anyone. If I were being chased by a mugger/kidnapper/murderer, I'd be screwed. I was never the person who went for long runs to "clear my head" or enjoyed the stabbing pain akin to 9,000 knives ripping apart your lungs. I never got that "urge" to just throw on some spandex and pound the pavement ad nausea. I was the girl driving by these people and shaking my head. Now don't get me wrong. I admire these people. Everytime my lazy, driving, bum drives past someone out for a nice longgg run, I think wow, good for them. and then i head home to the sanctity of my apartment.
As I've gotten older, I realize that gravity is only going to get meaner. I've never had good metabolism to begin with and I quickly came to the realization that exercise and I would have to bury the hatchet. I decided the best place to make amends with my inner hatred for running would be at my local gym. I mean, let's not get ahead of ourselves here kiddos, i'm willing to exercise (in an air-conditioned building with TVs on every piece of equipment), but I'm not gonna jump the gun. Like any good relationship, it takes time and lots of fostering to make this work.
So I joined a gym, a gym with treadmills. a gym with treadmills that have TV's attached.
and here is where the vanity sets in.
As I'm huffing and puffing my way through this routine, I am overtly aware of what I look like while doing this. My face gets red (thanks Irish curse), I sweat profusely and I'm pretty certain there's a fair amount of jiggle happening (I'll spare you the details of where). However, the other day the TV wasn't working on the treadmill so I was left to my ipod and the blank screen staring back at me. Suddenly, the light from the afternoon sun hit the screen and a my reflection filled the screen. it was me. a running me. a running me sans sweat, redness and jiggle. Instead, I had the perky ponytail thing going and I actually LOOKED like a runner. It got me really excited. So excited I ran an extra 8 minutes longer than I was planning on (which, hey, is a big deal for me!)
from that day forward, I've kept the tv off and I've stared at myself as I ran. It's way better than a mirror because its like the slightly blurred, hidiing-all-the-flaws version of myself. and you know what? it works.
So I will happily admit my vanity to the whole world. Yes, I stare at myself while I run on the treadmill.
but hey it works. try it!