Sunday Confessional

Another confession: I'm afraid of riding real bikes, unless I'm at the beach. Cars are so aggressive!

1. I didn't go to spin class this week. My real confession? I'm actually all bent out of shape about it. (Literally, I can feel my gut forming as we speak.) I've totally become one of those people who's obsessed with going to spin class. I know. I make myself sick, too.

But in all seriousness, until a couple months ago I was terrified of spinning because it just seemed so INTENSE and people who love spinning, reallly love spinning and I didn't want to be that awkward person huffing and puffing in the corner. But then I got into a fitness rut and decided to drag my friend along just to try it out and you know what? It wasn't awkward or intimidating. The instructor was super nice and explained everything. (And generously pretended not to care when it took me three classes to FINALLY remember my bike settings.)

It took a bit of getting used to and it left me with a rather horrific, uncomfortably placed bruise (this only happens after your first class, I promise!) that made sitting at my desk the next day slightly less than peachy. But I still totally love it. To the point where I get upset when I have to miss class because of work or driving my brother somewhere or whatever.

Moral of the story is: if you've been too afraid to try a class at your gym, just do it. It'll be worth it. Now I need to follow my own advice and start becoming a yogi.

Um, deja vu or just a desperate need to go shopping?

2. I seriously wear the same seven outfits every single week. There is zero diversity in my work wear right now and it's getting totally pathetic. I could actually give you a detailed description of the exact seven outfits, but that would be really embarrassing if anyone reading this actually sees me on those days and would be able to confirm that yes, Jesus, she really does wear the same thing over and over. I hope the girl has access to a laundry machine. (To put your mind at ease: Yes, I do. What, you think I still live at home just for the free cable? ...ok that too.)

I need to go shopping -- bad -- but unfortunately I can't. My mom and I placed a little bet last Friday to see if we could manage to go two full weeks without buying ANYTHING other than groceries and gas. (One exception: if you run out of a vital toiletry, you're allowed to replace it. We're not trying to make each other walk around in 93 degree heat without deodorant.) If either one of us slips up, the loser has to buy the winner a little present.

I haven't been much of a shopper the past few months because, hello, entry-level salary, but I have been dying to buy some new workout gear. (Gym clothes are actually the only reason I even bother to do laundry, and I'm sick of having to actually do laundry every week. I'm domestically lazy, ok?) And really, I need some new daytime duds -- just to give the people around me some visual interest, ya know? Everything I do is for the greater good of those around me, I swear...

Small problem.

This weather report is a bit of an issue. Wednesday in particular. 91 degrees and humid?  

Not ok.

I'm running this 5k on Wednesday night after work, and, you see, I'm kind of a spoiled exerciser. I only run outside if the temperature is juuuussstttt right and there's no traffic and it's not getting too dark and there aren't any threatening-looking men standing near by and there is zero humidity and, well, I'm a diva. I'll admit it.

That's why I have a gym membership. No excuses. It's lit and air conditioned and I pay way too much money to not use it and sometimes there are threatening-looking men standing nearby, but then I can just turn to them and say, "Excuse me, sir? The entire mat is empty, save for this small corner I'm using to do deadlifts and shoulder presses, so do you think you could move more than two feet away from me to stretch your hip flexors? Thank you." (Some guy really did do this to me last week. But I'm scared of confrontation so I didn't say anything. It was really uncomfortable, though.)

So what's a diva like me to do when she's already signed up and paid her 25 bucks to run a race in hellish weather? Suck it up, I guess, and look forward to losing six pounds in sweat. Why hello there, silver lining.

A little bit obsessive.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a compulsive researcher. It takes 10 hours of reading Sephora reviews before I decide what shampoo to buy. When I bought a car last summer? Oh Christ, you don't even want to know. It was repulsive how much I read about cars. My mom was ready to shoot me if I brought up transmissions and gas mileage and automatic windows at the dinner table.

Hobbies are good for the soul. It's good to have something specific to think about that isn't work and finances and the future and all that depressing crap.

So lately all my attention is focused on training for this:

Meaning my mom now wants to shoot me when I talk about pacing and cross training and crying about IT band issues. Meaning I spend nearly all of my free time reading Runner's World and obsessively researching every little ounce of pain I experience to make sure that it isn't a stress fracture. Stress fractures are my biggest fear in life. God, they're terrifying to even think about.

The race is September 18th and I'm already beginning to threaten people's lives if they don't show up to spectate. I mean, I know watching a race isn't exactly thrilling to everyone.
...So bring a flask. Anyone who knows me knows there's nothing I find more fulfilling than being the center of attention. I love a good ego boost. So basically I'm saying I'll probably run ten times faster if there are people I know lining the streets of the course, and you want that for me, riiigghtt?