My ability to lose weight has never been my strong point. That’s why I’ve always concentrated on my other good qualities. Like the ease with which I use profanity when it comes to strenuous workouts.
For example, lately I’ve gotten back into doing pilates. Now, I’m no stranger to pilates. I did it before and did it well except that time I was using a book and just following the diagrams. It was, for the most part, the ultimate beginner’s instruction.
Since then, I’ve upgraded to a DVD. I’ve always had an aversion to exercise videos, perhaps because I was scarred at an early age by Richard Simmons Sweatin’ to the Oldies. Every time I think of one, I imagine a bubbly, stick thin instructor who’s probably never woken up one morning and realized she didn’t have anything to wear because she’d gained so much weight over the past year, nothing fit like they used to.
But this time I thought perhaps I could use an annoying instructor telling me “Just one more!” rather than me saying that to myself over the last donut in the box.
Essentially, I got exactly what I deserved. A spandex-clad nightmare on a yoga mat.
The great thing about working out at home and not having to work out in front of a room full of people is you have the freedom to do (or not do) whatever you want. In my case, I talk back to the pilates instructor.
Like when she said, “C’mon, try two more.”
“I don’t wanna,” I say. “I just gave you 8, you stupid bitch.”
“Think of yourself thin as spaghetti”
“If I was thin as spaghetti, I wouldn’t be doing this workout, you stupid bitch!”
“Now reach…! Reach…!”
“My arms are short, you stupid bitch!”
“C’mon, one more… and reach! That’s it… good job! That’s it for the beginner’s workout. Looking forward to see you in the intermediate session.”
“I hate you… you stupid bitch.”