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I did something that I haven't ever done in the history of life yesterday. I signed up for a gym membership.
(Cue hands to cheeks/open mouthed iPhone emoji face right about...here)
No you are not going blind, yes I am going insane. But it needs to happen, desperately. Because I want to look like this...yesterday.


Okay so I lied. I did once sign up for a Planet Fitness membership. But the damn place was in Harlem and it was only ten bucks a month and I could still drink 15 beers a weekend and not gain a pound so I never went. Not once. And I had the damn membership for months. And then they made me do everything short of notarize a god damn letter to mail to them in order to cancel it. What?!!!?! But that's a post for another day.

Today were discussing the gym. You know that place I've stepped into and worked out in, oh maybe six times in my entire life. I'm serious, I'll show you.

High School - Never went. I was a late bloomer. I didn't hit triple digits on the scale until my senior year. There was no need for the gym. Plus I was too busy chatting my life away on AIM, duh.

College - Went twice and I'm not sure what the hell I was thinking either time. I drank my weight in sugary sorority punch every weekend, plowed through a roll of raw cookie dough a week, and drank red solos of Keystone Light by the dozen and never once had a rendezvous with the dreaded "Freshman Fifteen". Oh the glory days.

Post college - Four times. And I've been done with college for 3.5 years. I went those four times a year ago when I paid thirty bucks for a thirty day trial so I felt like I had to at least, you know, "try". Four times in thirty days. That's about once a week. Great work Erin, you really conquered it.

But now my metabolism is catching up to me and things are shifting. And by shifting I mean the peach rings and Pringles aren't all taking a beeline to my ass (which is quite alright in my book). They're setting up shop on my hips and my arms and my thighs and my cheeks (the face ones not the ass ones) (which is not alright in any book). And I feel like my body is looking less like the me on the left and more like the women in the paintings from the olden days on the right. You catch my drift?


I'm by no means "overweight" or "fat" or "chunky" or "obese" or whatever the god damn PC term is these days but I am also by no means "fit or healthy". I don't really want to lose weight. At 5'4" and 110-113 pounds I'm quite alright but I'm just a little more jiggly in places than I'd like to be. Actually being able to feel the flub blubber around while driving over the numerous pot holes in NYC is not a good look. That needs to stop.

I also don't want to change my diet even though "that's half the battle". Or something. I don't do diets. If my jeans are feeling a little snug I do some lunges in them - not to get a work out in, just to stretch them out. Makes sense to me. Maybe just maybe I'll eat some healthier foods like the platter of fruits and veggies I devoured last night.


But that's only to cancel out the half bag of Doritos I plan on eating later. See my brain doesn't realize that eating healthy calories after eating bad calories doesn't negate the crap ones, it just adds to the count. But my brain also doesn't understand how people run marathons or how anyone does yoga in a room that feels like the equator was shoved into an oven and then set on fire, either. So that's fine. I'll go with it.

Anyway, back to the gym thing. I joined it. New York Sports Club is the name, tone and tighten Erin's body is the game. If you have any suggestions on what things I should be doing at the gym to win at this game then please be sure to share because lord knows I can use all the advice in the world right about now. The motivating quotes on Pinterest aren't really enough for me.


Or in a more simpler set of terms...


But sweat I will do because as of today I officially have TWO WEEKS UNTIL I ARRIVE IN FLORIDA TO SEE WHITNEY PANTS and apparently it feels somewhat like that hot yoga room down there so I will be half naked the entire five days and this girl needs to not jiggle while flopping around dancing to Wagon Wheel in the pool or while riding rides at HARRY POTTER LAND. Yes I did just say I was going to go there. I can't talk about it now, I'll pee.

And speaking of Whitney, it is #backthatazzupfriday and what better way to tie this post all up in one pretty laced up sneaker bow than to play a little Kanye's Workout Plan.


But I will not be eating any salads and I will be saying yes to desert. Duh, I'm still Erin under this little "get fit" facade. So don't expect any funny kale smoothie business from me. Do expect me to go purchase some new workout gear and take a selfie or two though. I'm all over that shit. Oh, and none of this will be occurring until AFTER this three day holiday weekend is over. So I plan on consuming as many calorie ridden cocktails and platters of fried bar food as I can. Cheers!

Update: I just met Stephanie through her comment on this post and she directed me to a post she just wrote yesterday about pretty much the. exact. same. thing. Except she explained it better and used gifs. Like a Michelle Tanner one - which is basically what the 12 year old me will look like as soon as I hit the gym for the first time. Genius.


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