My super gay gym journey

I’ve decided to fulfill my homosexual destiny and start working out. I’ve resisted it a for a long time- for various reasons that I’m about to admit- but I’m planning on getting some new photos this fall for an album cover and such and I’d like to not look bloated.  So to be clear, it’s pure vanity. Bonus homosexual points!

I’m about to turn 45. I think I still look pretty good considering I’m kinda lazy as fuck and I drink a bottle of red wine most nights. But I’m about 200 pounds and I think 185 is my “doesn’t look fat in photos with out taking them at extreme high angles” weight.

Yoga would be my preferred exercise. The atmosphere in most studios doesn’t trigger me (the thing I’m about to talk about why I’ve avoided the gym life). But that shit is expensive. It’s rich white lady exercise. Don’t get me wrong, I fully intend to eventually be a rich white lady… at which point I’ll be in the yoga studio full time drinking  crystal charged water out of a mason jar. In the meantime… it’s Gold’s Gym.

I realized recently I’ve been carrying a weird belief about physical fitness through my adult life. And it all started in elementary school gym class. I was never overtly bullied. I guess I experienced the normal amount of American public school bullshit, but I was never singled out and was generally well liked. But gym class showed no mercy on most of us.

You’re forced to take off your clothes. Then run out into a gymnasium where a redneck asshole with a whistle is screaming at you. You are then tested and swiftly judged by whether or not you are naturally good at playing basketball.. or some shit… If you are, you are elevated into the awesome category. If not, you’re in the fucking faggot category.

When you are 11 years old, this is a terrifying experience. One that is forced upon you 5 days a week for a decade.

When I got into high school, thankfully the PE teacher was a kinder human. Also, I discovered my identity in rocknroll. I played in a band. Grew my hair long. That’s who I was. Not a dumb meat head jock. Then I made my way out into the world. A world that didn’t include weights and treadmills.

This isn’t a thing I’ve been carrying around like heavy baggage or anything. But I do have to admit it’s affected my life choices.

So a few nights ago I walked into the gym for the first time. The atmosphere couldn’t be any “bro-ier” and I’m actually glad for that for comedy sake. I told myself all I had to do was get my account set up, see where everything was and just get on an aerobic machine for a few minutes. Just let myself feel ok in the space.

it was fine. totally fine.

Here’s to undoing all the subtle negative things that were once done… and vanity.

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