Remember “places”?
Yeah, me neither.
But I have a fuzzy memory of putting on “exercise clothes” and going to a “gym.”
Like, every day(ish).
OrangeTheory was my happy endorphin fuel for most days before you-know-what. Now? I’m counting my trips to the kitchen to refill the queso as “cardio.”
Or walking my dogs. Cardio with my fur babies? Practically meditation. And reaching for the remote is currently referred to as “yoga.” Don’t judge me.
And the gym is literally open!
And super sterile!
And safe!
And EMPTY.
So, why in the name of Richard Simmons are we not out there, sweatin’ to the oldies?
We have time. We’re eating carbs and drinking wine like they’re vitamins.
Our jeans are screaming for mercy when we
1) Actually choose to wear them, and
2) Believe that we can still button those suckers
Maybe because that wedding you were gonna lose 7 pounds for got rescheduled to 2024. The bar mitzvah? Next July.
The office party? Um, what’s an “office”?
Because our inner couch potatoes are out, and our sofas have (hopefully not permanent) butt prints.
Do not feel guilty.
Do not worry, this will pass and our abs will slowly crawl their way back to the surface.
If you’re killin it, prepping for a 2022 marathon and filling up on wheatgrass smoothies, good for you. Awesome for you. Yay!!
Just ssssshhh...
No one wants to hear about it. Like, literally nobody.
But until then, plop down on that La-Z-Boy and watch some feel-good movies!
Three suggestions?…
Clueless
“Do you prefer ‘fashion victim’ or ‘ensembly challenged?”
The Princess Bride
“I do not think that word means what you think it means.”
Mamma Mia
“Music meets bubblegum meets sequins. And Meryl Streep!”
So, refill the salsa and queso. Yoga over to the remote and just enjoy it.
OrangeTheory, the yoga studio, and even that Peloton/clothes rack will all be ready and waiting...
