An Ode to Nancy (and Dean) by Jennifer Schwab

I hate the gym.  The gym was always a vicious cycle for me.  First, I would commit to going everyday and working out.  I would do really well for week one.  I’d skip a day on week two.  I’d go one day on week three.  I needed to see other people by week four.  I’d sit at home alone with Ben and Jerry.  They would console me at first, but eventually they’d tell me to get my tubby butt off the couch.  And then my bank statement would guilt trip me into making something of that $60 a month I’d already spent in my 12-month contract.  So back to the gym I went…and the cycle continued.

It’s not that I don’t want to be healthy.  I want to be active and fit into pants that don’t stretch.  But it was all those machines.  There were the endless rows of treadmills, begging me to be a part of the machine.  “Be a good little hamster and run on our wheel.”  And the outfits.  The gym membership machine dictates that you look good while you work out.  Perfect hair.  Expensive, color-coordinated outfit of awesomeness.  And the latest iPod.  Oh, and I can tan at the same time too?  Because we all know that is real health right there.

It’s all too much for me.  I don’t need more guilt and expectations in my life, I’ve got plenty on my own.  I don’t want a machine, or to be a part of one.  What I need is a community.  I need Gretchen and Claudia and Lisa… I need people who will cheer me on.  What I need is something new to challenge me everyday.  What I need is Nancy (and Dean by proxy).

Thanks guys.  You’re stuck with me now.


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