Gym Rat/Gym Dating

Ok, I am not QUITE a gym rat. But, I *did* go TWO days in a row. This is big news people!!! Also, I lost a pound. One lonely solitary pound may not be THAT awesome, but it *IS* a step in the right direction. Only 11 or so more steps to go.

But the point of my post is not my [not] being gym rat. The point is to share the absurd/awkward/horrid event that happened to me at Fancy Pants Gym today.

Not surprisingly, I have come to find that Fancy Pants Gym doubles as a dating pool. I guess this makes the absurd membership price slightly more palatable – its members, after all, won’t need to re-up their match.com memberships. Also, Fancy Pants Gym weeds out potential suitors slightly better than craigslist. At Fancy Pants Gym, at least you know all people have either a (a) job, (b) hot body, or (c) trust fund. As it turns out all you need to be dateable is one of those three.

On a typical day, I watch all the flirting action take place from high above my stair-climber [or elliptical, depending on what kind of day it is]. TODAY, things were a little different.

I was doing my thing, working up a sweat, bobbing along to a little music, when this total Gym Douchebag comes up to my climber. I noticed him standing there, very very close, but I chose to ignore him. Not only did I not want to talk to him, but I was so out of breath that I was not sure I could gave spoken even if I wanted to. Gym Douchebag did not take the hint. After about 45 seconds passed, I glanced over [he is literally three inches from my hand at this point]. Then THIS happened::

Gym Doughbag:: I noticed you staring at me. [just to be clear, I was NOT staring at this joker]

Diet Coke:: [Silence - with a look of shock and awe]

Gym Douchbag:: Don’t be shy.

Diet Coke:: [Silence - with a look that says "seriously Gym Douchbag, back away from the machine"]

After our lovely “conversation” Gym Douchebag finally started to walk away, but not without muttering something under his breath about how if I don’t want to talk, I ought not stare. Except that he didn’t say “ought.” That is not a word used by Gym Douchebag types.

On the down side, Gym Douchebag was not handsome [he looked like a rockabilly meat head, if you can imagine that] and the whole thing made me want to leave the gym stat like. The silver lining, however, is that if I am ever hard up for a date – at least I know where to turn.

Gym People. They scare me.

I recently joined a new Fancy Pants Gym [where I am paying astro-fucking-nomical monthly dues] under the guise that THIS is the most convenient gym for me to attend. Thus, despite my umpteen other various gym related memberships, joining THIS gym will cause me to actually work out, resulting in my becoming a skinny Diet Coke, as opposed a pleasantlyish plump Diet Coke.
Unfortunately, however, there are few problems with my new plan.

Problem #1:: I fucking hate the gym. Because 1) the gym makes you sweaty and tired [and not in a good way], 2) pleasantlyish plump people such as myself don’t look hot in gym clothes [no matter how awesome Lululemon makes their damn pants] and 3) gyms are gross.

Problem #2:: Fancy Pants Gym is worst than most because 99% of the people defy nature and are gorgeous while working out. I am not one of these 99% percent. This makes me feel like a failure. [Addendum 1:: This turns out not to be so much of a problem. While I am not trying to pick anyone up at the gym, having lots of cute boys around ain't so bad.]

Problem #3:: Fancy Pants Gym, despite the aforementioned astro-fucking-nomical monthly dues, does not have enough tvs. How am I expected to get anything done without watching tv? This isn’t the third world people. One tv per person at ALL TIMES. Thems the rules. [Addendum 2:: This is totally false. I must not have noticed on my walk through, but the place has shit loads of TV. So many in fact, that no matter where I looked tonight, all I could see was the Lakers sucking.]
Problem #4:: People I know work out at Fancy Pants Gym. I do like the notion of looking not hot in gym clothes while being sweaty and tired in front of people I know. I bet it is not that awesome for them either.

Problem #5:: I suck at working out. From afar, it may look like I am doing awesome. You will often find me dripping sweat on a treadmill while seemingly running my tush off. A closer look, however, will reveal that my “sprinting” is the result of the treadmill only moving at 4.3 miles per hour. I don’t really get how that is possible either. I am an enigma.

And STILL, despite all the problems, I am off to the gym. Right….NOW. God bless me.

[Addendum 3:: Done working out. Feeling kind of awesome.]

I have officially exhausted the LA dating scene.

I mentioned before that I was starting this crazy new fitness thing [CrossFit]. CrossFit is not in itself crazy, but it is crazy for someone like me, given that I am a slothful ball of lazy. Anyhow, fitness craze #2 for the month of May 2008 began today. All went well[ish]. I made it official and signed a contract committing myself to TWO workouts a week, each beginning at 6′o mother effing clock in the a.m. Feeling slightly giddy from my workout this morning [it is not clear why], which I pretty much sucked at, I went to work [truthfully, I stopped at starbucks first and got a gigante iced coffee, and THEN I went to work*] and hopped onto the gym’s blog which prominently features a group photo from their last event.

And what do I find smack dab in the middle of said photo? My life being what it is, I spy a guy I once dated. “Dated” may be a bit strong, as we went on a single “meh” date. There was, however, making-out involved, causing any future encounter with this person to be potentially awkward. Whats more, thinking back on our date, I do recall Fitness Guy telling me he did this bizarre workout thing that involved pull-ups and a rowing machine in the mornings that he loved. Lo and behold, it happens to CrossFit. I really really hope that I don’t run into him, and that if I do, that he does not remember me. But given my luck, I WILL run into him, he WILL remember me, and he WILL totally think that I am stalking him.

Universe:: 34
Diet Coke:: 0

I think I need to move to a new city, there is no safe place for me anymore in Los Angeles.

In other news, I broke down and had my first Diet Coke in seven days. And it was every bit as delicious as I remember. Oh Diet Coke [the beverage, not to the blogger], I love you so.

And in yet more news, I purchased the most brilliant dress for a wedding I am going to be attending on July 3. And with the arrival of said dress comes Operation Wedding Hotness. OWH merely requires that Hot Wedding Dress still fit me come the day of the event. This seems doable, even for me.

* Iced Coffee with “Energy,” actually. Misnomer. Did not provided me with any energy. It did, however, cost be an extra fifty cents.

Working out is hazardous to your health.

I kid you not. One day post Burn/Torture 60 and I am incapable of walking, standing, laughing, drinking or thinking. Literally every single muscle in my body aches. Certainly more information than you desire, but I had to use the handicap bathroom at the office today because I needed the handrail to hoist myself back up to standing position. I would not be able to sprint down the hallway if my life depended on it. And I tend to think I could do ANYTHING if my life depended on it (I do after all, plan to be immortal).

On another note, a great many of you have expressed shock and awe over the current Evil Troll Situation. And I know!!! The whole situation is totally bat shit crazy. The latest is that Evil Boyfriend (as in Evil Troll’s current/ex boyfriend) called my New Roommate to tell her that he and Evil Troll are engaged in a project together (I can only imagine what this “project” entails) and that he can’t talk to my New Roommate until after they have concluded said “project”.

And the reasons for his mandated hiatus? Because he can’t think of my New Roommate without wanting to [expletive] her and he needs to not be [expletiving] her right now out of respect to Evil Troll. Those are his words, not mine!!!!

And by the way, please add this to my list of pet peeves:: Someone who has already done bad things X and Y says that they will not do bad thing Z “out of respect.”

Real life example:: I just stole your shoes and cut a hole in your socks, but out of respect for you, I will not step on your toes.

Thanks?

A world of pain.

Examples of a good idea:: ice cream, pool side frolicking, pancakes, vacations, backyard BBQs, baseball games, massages, cupcakes, swimming pools, bubble bath, diet carbonated beverages, photographs.

Examples of a bad idea:: waking up at 5a (in the morning people!!!) to engage in the most hellish workout ever after not having worked out in half a decade.

Wanting to fit in with the early morning worker outter contingent at my work place, I signed up to join my clearly masochistic cohorts today at Burn 60. The class was way the hell over in Brentwood and started at 6a. I have not woken up that early since my burglar alarm went off a couple months ago, and even then, I considered staying in bed. And the name Burn 60? Accurate in part, as their is in fact burning. However, not merely for the 60 minutes the name implies. I am 9.5 hours post workout and I am in PAIN. I can’t walk, I can’t bend down, it is a wonder I can even type.

I also went to see Dr. Kerendian, marking our one month anniversary. Between the lipotropics and the ass kicking workout, I better see some results. And I mean soon!

Must. Lose. Weight.

Having spent the better part of the last two years lamenting the ten extra pounds on my frame despite all my various weight loss efforts (which admittedly, have typically compromised my eating “healthy” for two days, and then going out for Mexican food) – I am taking (semi) drastic measures.

I heard rumblings a few months ago from Evil Troll about a Dr. Kerendian in Beverly Hills who is supposed to be a weight loss guru. Such rumblings were ignored given Evil Troll’s status as 1) a dishonest and 2) evil. But then again on Monday, the Good Doctor Kerendian entered into my life when I heard someone in the elevators at my office talking about how their friend’s, friend’s, friend lost – “like, 25 pounds and looks, like, totally awesome.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is all the endorsement I need.

So I rang up the Good Doctor Kerendian, who is conveniently located down the street, and come tomorrow at 1:00 p, I will be in his care on my way to weight loss bliss. I hope. The first appointment is taking various tests to measure my metabolic rate, blood work, and all that other doctorly stuff. I am verboden from consumption of caffeine AND alcohol for the 24 hours period prior.* Thusly, the diet coke I am drinking right now makes me a rule breaker. But I swear, after this one, no more. Errr, maybe.

Also, for those of you curious about Dr. Kerendian (and apparently, that is many of you because the phone guy told me the place gets 180 calls a DAY), I will post periodically about my results, costs, and give a general review of Dr. Kerendian. Until then, you can refer to his website.

* I totally cheated and had two drinks last night with some friends at The 3rd Stop. I used to love this place, but they have totally lost themselves. They are trying to be all fancy now and it is v v v v v annoying.

The First Appointment::

I just returned from my first appointment with Dr. Kerendian. I use the term “with” very loosely, as the appointment was in fact with his medical staff (I was previously informed that the first would be). They took some blood, weighted me (THE HORROR!!!), took my body fat (THE HORROR!!!!), and had me take a metabolic test (my metabolism is normal to higher than normal – I guess I am fattish because I eat a lot. Damn!). Afterwords the Good Doctor’s Physician Assistant came in any told how he thinks I basically don’t eat right and how I need to work out more, build some muscle, yada yada blah blah. He then told me to come back in three days to see the Good Doctor Kerendian.

My thoughts:: Yes, buddy. I know all this. And I didn’t pay three hundred cash American dollar dollar bills to hear you tell me I am fattish because I eat too much and I don’t work out enough. Give me some pills!! Give me some shots!!!

My reply:: Ok, thanks.

The Second Appointment::

The *real* appointment day arrived at last. I was off to see the Good Doctor Kerendian in the flesh. We chatted for nearly an hour, talked about my eating habits (bad), life style (naughty), work outs (non-existent), energy level (low), etc. After about forty minutes of yapping, we got to the good stuff.

He put me on a 1200 calorie diet, twice daily metabolic packs (fist fulls of horse sized vitamins), and lipotropic injections. I received the first of the injections yesterday – in my butt (left side for those keeping track)- and I know it’s crazy and impossible, but I feel much thinner already! talk about placebo effect.

Summary::

I just started The Program. Good Doctor Kerenian thinks I can lose up to 16 pounds, so that shall be my goal.