You ride that bike like a possessed gorilla

I decided to hit up the gym after work today in my quest to get toned before I go to Aruba (23 days!) Since I've been under the spell of this ridiculously long lasting cold that seems to be going around, I decided to take it easy and go for a little ride on a stationary bike. 

Despite my sore bum, I was having a nice time reading my book (which is so good by the way...it's "American Wife" by Curtis Sittenfeld) and enjoying the fact the no one was on the bikes around me. 

And then this wannabe-exercise-guru guy sporting a sleeveless T-shirt (ew) came over and plopped down on the bike next to me. Now there were plenty of other bikes there, but he chose the one next to me...and the mirror (which I later realized). 

So I was still pedaling away when I started to notice that this guy seemed to be going at it on his bike. He was jumping up and down, thrusting forward, grunting, breathing heavily etc.. It was really awkward. I tried to ignore him, but then I noticed him moving his arms about as if he was fist pumping. Oh yes, he was dancing. On his bike. At he gym. While looking in the mirror. And it wasn't long before he started singing along with his iPod out loud while smiling at his own reflection.  

I didn't think it could get any better until he started flexing his muscles while he danced and gyrated on the bike. I burst out laughing. Luckily, I turned away before he noticed me looking (I didn't want to give him the attention he wanted). But then  I could feel his sweaty little face turned toward mine, and could see that he was still going at it. I refused to look at him. 

He started to sing louder and was practically flailing about on his bike, begging to be noticed. He looked like some kind of possessed beefed-up gorilla. I think he was about two seconds away from pounding his fists against his chest and letting out a Tarzan-like roar. Was he trying to mate with me? It sure seemed like it. (shudder)

As I was about to burst out laughing again, my bike beeped to let me know my time was up. I quickly hopped off and made a beeline for the mats in the back room before I could laugh in front of him.

Anyway, just had to share that. I love ridiculous people. Happy almost Friday, everyone!

I'm as athletic as The Hills is real

So, not so much.

As I was working my little bum off on the elliptical this evening, I contemplated why I didn't do it more often. And then I remembered that I don't like it. 

I'm not one of those people who look "cute" when they work out. I don't think it's fun or feels good. It makes me feel gross—like a giant, sweaty, heavy-breathing exercise monster. And to top it off (and this is going to sound so sexy, I know), I'm allergic to my own sweat. So that means by the end, I'm covered head to toe (face included) in hives. It's SO hot, let me tell you.

So while I do love Pilates and can tolerate the occasional elliptical excursion, I do not like working out. My whole family LOVES to run. Not me. I'm pretty much the exercise-despising black sheep. Perhaps it's because my two years doing crew in high school nearly did me in or maybe it's because I've never been athletic. Ever.

Growing up, I tried pretty much every sport there is:

Crew—I loved crew. The feeling of being in the boat, cutting through the crisp, clean water ahead...amazing. But the land work on the erg? It was my hell. The second year I was on the team,  we got a new coach who wouldn't let us stop running/erging/rowing until we all puked. Being on the team was no longer fun—it was like a punishment. I was sad when I decided not to stay on the team after my second year, but I know I made the right decision for me.

Tennis—Tried it when I was 7. I lied and said I was 8 to be with my best friend. We were kicked out of class repeatedly because we used to goof off and laugh too much. Yeah, I was a total badass. Too bad my Mom was really in to tennis at the time...I think she's still a bit ashamed of me for getting kicked out. Oops.

Basketball—I played 3rd grade through 6th grade. I was absolutely terrible. In 5th and 6th grade when we were finally "competitive", I probably played a total of 2 minutes for BOTH years. My friend and I used to be "bench buddies" and had a great time cheering for our team. Then the coach realized she was actually good and played her all the time. And I was alone and bored and still bad at basketball, so I stopped playing.

Soccer—I played when I was 5. I was the little girl who spaced out, sat in the grass and picked dandelions. I used to like it when people got hurt (terrible, I know) because that meant I got to sit down and resume my flower picking. How dare the ref blow his whistle and interrupt me! I was making necklaces, you jerk!

Indoor Soccer—Yep, I even tried this one year. I played in one game only and accidentally scored two goals. My crush at the time (and all through grade school actually) gave me a high five and I nearly melted. But in the immortal words of Clueless, I wasn't into activities where "balls fly at my nose", so I stopped after one season

Gymanstics—HA. I did it for a year when I was 6...and I still couldn't figure out how the hell to do a cartwheel. I just wanted to jump in the flippin' pit of foam blocks, like any other normal, uncoordinated kid.

Volleyball—I loved it. I played 6th through 8th grade and I really thought it was my sport. When I got to high school, I was so pumped to try out for it. I just knew I'd make the team. But when it came to the last day, I was cut. CUT. Out of all the girls who tried out, only two of us were cut. The other unfortunate girl was a chubby know-it-all who arrived late everyday clutching a greasy Burger King bag and would sit in the stands and eat it before she worked out. Needless to say, I was devastated.

So while I know running and working out numerous times a week is the "right" thing to do, it takes extra effort for me to get motivated. At least now that I love Pilates (and the occasional chunk of time on the elliptical), I'm more in shape than I was last year. And I'm hopefully one step closer to having my Aruba-ready beach bod. Ha.

 And if you ever see me in the gym, please don't stare at the hives on my face. I already know how sexy they are.