I started running again and boy does it feel good. Okay, I'm lying. It feels like each of my appendages will all fall off in the next 24 hours. Seriously, I was on the treadmill for like 15 minutes and I wanted to curl up into a ball and die. Here I am at Gold's Gym with all these total meat-heads suffocating me with their .2% body fat, running like there's no tomorrow pointing at the blond girl who is moving like Edward Scissorhands. I always feel like that at the gym. No matter how good of shape I get in I know they are staring at me. Like there is this secret plot to make me feel horrible about myself. Like they only let the women with textbook butts work out next to me. Or everyone is told to take all the normal mirrors as soon as Elyse comes in, forcing me to stand in front of the one mirror in the whole gym that makes my torso look more wide than long.
I really do love running. I love the feeling of pushing myself and accomplishing something all on my own. In fact, if I could avoid the gym and just run on an empty street without any meat-heads, or perfectly proportioned women, I would. The problem is that this is a scary world we live in full of homeless people and rapists and people walking around with baseball bats just waiting to attack the first innocent girl they see. No thank you. I will take judgement, and steroid-ridden 5-foot-tall Mexicans, little Asians with boob jobs and a gym full of people trying to test my confidence any day over the man with the bat.