An apology letter to Strength Training

Dear Strength Training,

I don’t even know how we ended up at this point… I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. We used to be good friends back in college. Remember the good ol’ days when the gym was free (ahem – included as part of the $25k annual tuition) and classes were in abundance. Body Sculpt was my favorite – an hour where I was forced to curl, lunge and squat until my muscles begged me to stop.

There was a summer when I saw Jillian Michaels on TV more than I saw my friends. I did No More Trouble Zones like it was my religion. That DVD really works, too. (Unless of course, you eat 2939803 calories a day, but I wouldn’t know anything about that…)

Now you only show up once or twice every other week, maybe for 5 or 10 minutes at a time. When you do show up, the next day I need help getting out of my chair at work because I haven’t seen you in so long. Then I give you the silent treatment to teach you a lesson.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, I feel my resolve crack and I drive by your house find myself picking up a dumbbell. There are visions in my head of sculpted backs and toned thighs that one day, I will achieve. The ultimate goal? To wear a sports bra with no shirt. I know, it’s getting a little wild in here…. ahem.

So I suggest we start couples counseling and work on our relationship. A healthy balance will keep me from limping around like I’m 107 and keep you from feeling neglected. I think we should see each other at least twice a week. We can split up our time into upper and lower body so we keep it fair and more importantly, keep me off the IcyHot. When we do spend time together, we need to dedicate at least 20 solid minutes of one-on-one time – no texting, no phone calls, no distractions. Just you and me.

Because after all, a healthy relationship will turn me into her, right?

Wearing a smoky eye to the gym is standard, no?



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