A question I've been pondering this week:
Why do we spend time scouring the parking lot to find the closest spot to the gym door, only to walk in and run five miles on the treadmill?
Seriously, yesterday afternoon I went to the gym to meet with my trainer (I've gone three times this week, BTW), and saw this guy driving up and down each damn row waiting for someone to pull out of a spot he deemed worthy of being close enough to the door. I parked by the grocery store, walked in, and started my workout. I finally saw closest-parking-spot guy walk in ten minutes later. What was going through his head? "I don't want to waste any energy getting to the gym because I need to save it for my workout"???? What the heck???
Also, when you're not using the exercise ball, and I walk over to get it, don't jump off your weight machine and scream at me, "I'm using that!" You are not, and you know it, Mrs. hoard-the-equipment.
I also just finished the best diet book ever. Okay, so it's not a diet book, but it's everything we think and want to say about weight loss and never do. If you love reading memoirs, read Jen Lancaster's "Such a Pretty Fat." It is hilarious. She has a pretty foul mouth, but honestly, the book just wouldn't be good without the bad language. All three of her books are great, but this last one was by far the best for me. I love this part (paraphrased because I don't have the book to cite directly from):
Jen is at the gym with her trainer, and they are lifting weights in the weight room. Jen notes how small and dark the room is, with a low ceiling and dark walls. She says to her trainer, "This must be what lifting weights in prison is like. We're doing the same exercises that prisoners do just before they get shanked. And you're smaller than I am, so if this were prison I guess that would make you my prison bitch!"
My trainer could be my prison bitch. Her legs together are as big as one of mine. I swear, if she's not careful I'll crush her someday.