"Hey girl, you want to go to the gym with me?"
"You mean, 'Do I want to go to the gym and have my self-esteem reduced to -12 on a scale of 1 to 10 because that girl has been running for 40 minutes straight and I get winded walking up stairs? Do I then want to bump into 20 people I know, and haven't seen in forever, while looking like a disgusting nightmare?' No, no I don't want to do that."
I am not going back to the gym.
Inevitably, going to the gym is a never-ending process. First, you start going to get fit. Then you see someone who is fitter than you, making you feel inadequate. So now, you start going to the gym more and more. And then, success. You're fit and can finally stop going to the gym! Right? False. Now you have to go to the gym just to stay fit. And you have to keep going until you die, probably from exhaustion, because of exercise.
I've decided the fit life is not for me and that living in the IRC provides me with more than enough exercise. It takes 13 grueling minutes (this campus is all uphill, how does that happen?) to get to Cabell. By the time I get there, navigate the most poorly designed building on earth and go back home, I have walked for 30 minutes. And if you round up, exaggerate and ignore the fact that I sometimes take the bus, that's an hour of vigorous cardio every day. Who needs the gym when life is that strenuous?
Add to that my diet, which consists mostly of tomatoes and hummus, and I'm golden! Well, I also eat a lot of brownies and have raw cookie dough pretty regularly, but that's okay, because think about all the tomatoes. It's a scientific fact: eating more tomatoes than brownies actually cancels out the brownies. Really, it's true...
Should my excellently balanced diet and lengthy vigorous walks fail me, I have also come up with a few ways to deal with the girth that would soon overcome me.
First, pictures are out. No pictures, under any circumstances, ever. If someone took a picture of me, I would destroy the camera.
Second, I would always stand to the side. After a while, this pose would become generally ineffective, but early on, it would be sufficient.
Third, I would instruct my friends to lie to me at all times about my appearance. I would ask, for example, if a shirt makes me look fat. My friends should then immediately scream, "No," tell me I'm insane and then explain how no one has, or ever will, look as great as I do.
After, I would expect them to start convulsing into hysterics because of how ridiculous the question was. If there were even a one-second pause between my question and this exact response, I would have to cut that friend loose. I'd just have to find someone who is willing to lie to me, and say I look great even when I don't, like a true friend would.
Fourth, I would only wear outfits of one solid color.
Fifth, I wouldn't eat anything "healthy" without something unhealthy to accompany it - at least not publicly. Eating healthy foods leads others to believe you are a) trying to lose weight or b) trying to keep it off. And because I will soon be past the 'keeping weight off' stage, the former assumption will prevail. If people start thinking I'm trying to lose weight, my whole, "I haven't gained any weight" cover would be blown. So, if I decided to eat an apple, I would first have to smother it in frosting.
Going to the gym would be absolutely out of the question. Once you hit the frosted apple stage, there's really no going back. The gym is for already fit people, with matching spandex outfits and an inability to sweat, so my presence there would be an affront to everyone. My being there to "stay fit" would also undermine the gym's true purpose, which is to showcase sorority T-shirts with mildly witty sayings that allude to 80s movies. All of my T-shirts are giveaways from the activities fair. I just don't belong.
And finally I would wear a lot of makeup. As someone who usually doesn't wear make-up, this would be unbelievably effective. People would look at me and think, "Who's that girl? God, she's wearing a lot of make-up," instead of, "Who's that girl? Her body is so un-gymed."
What an oddly perceptive stranger...
At this point, you may think it's ridiculous that I am going to go through all this trouble when I live across the street from Memorial Gym, not to mention the fact that I worked there last year. Wouldn't it be less trouble to go to the gym than to spend my days crushing cameras and painting my face like a clown? Doesn't it take less than three minutes to get to the gym? Don't I like the facilities and the people there? The answers to these questions are all, "No." Well, I mean technically, if accuracy is a concern of yours, the answer to all of those questions is yes, but that is not important.
What is important is that I would rather wear an entirely purple outfit than go back to the gym.
Belle's column runs biweekly Thursdays. She can be reached at b.gamble@cavalierdaily.com.
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