I really don’t actually enjoy going to the gym. Like, I am not even going to pretend that I walk out of that place filled with endorphins and a new found life motivation. I kind of wish I was one of those people that said: ‘Once you go, you just feel so much better!’
… I believe they are lying not only to you, but also to themselves.
Anyway, I pay my membership and I plan to go to the gym every day but the reality is that I might go twice a week… Or maybe once a week. Ok, I go once a week. Once.
Of late, I have been enjoying far too many Uber Eats and $3 pies from the 7/11 so the boyfriend and I entertained the idea of doing boot camp together. But neither of us were thrilled with a 6am start or the idea of being verbally harassed into our dream summer bikini bodies. It is one thing to start your day peddling a stationary bike while reading a romance novel and quite another to be yelled at by a tattooed middle aged man who Googles, daily, the words: French Foreign Legion and Michelle Bridges. The next option I was presented with was CrossFit and I wasn’t overly enthusiastic about that, but I was sold the idea by use of my favourite nine-word sentence:
‘You could get a blog post out of it.’
*I fear I may have also agreed to go camping, for the first time ever, because these words were also used in a bid to convince me three days without a shower isn’t so bad!*
Fortunately the CrossFit bloke never got back to us about scheduling an intro session so by we decided to just go to yoga instead. I was a little nervous about participating in a hot yoga class considering my normal low blood pressure and the heightened chance of me fainting in a warmed space. I have the same feeling when I get on the tram and it’s over 23 degrees. There is always the chance I will faint, have a seizure and shit myself all at the same time. So the 10 minutes before the start of the class when you just lay there and adjust to the room temperature is really for everyone’s benefit. And they are not kidding about it being hot yoga. It is V hot!
I do cheat on half of the breathing exercises and it’s going to be a long time before I can successfully stand on my head. But, so far, I’ve made it through without incident and have since cancelled my gym membership and am planning my life around yoga classes. It kind of matches my wine allergy and maybe by the New Year I’ll have become a vegan? It’s for sure better than psyching yourself up for the gym and then never going.
Even though I’m no closer to rocking all my belly tops this summer I don’t even really care, to be honest. I just like that I’m sweating while lying on my back with my eyes closed.
The best thing about this whole yoga experience is after the class we go for dinner. And we walk straight past the place with overpriced Vietnamese noodle salad and the organic chicken restaurant with gluten free/dairy free/no fun Snickers bar (I’ve never had one but the internet told me so) and go and get burgers.
Big fat dirty delicious burgers.
I didn’t feel guilty at all, not even when I order a beer or dipped the whole burger in mayo. And all I can think about is going back this week to try the southern fried chicken burger.
This probably indicates I won’t become a vegan anytime soon… or a full time yogi.