After being perpetually bombarded with Instagrammed photos of people’s muscles and acronyms for tracking food intake, I found myself with an acute case of envy. I want to be able to do a push up! I want to drink a superfood smoothie and like it! I want to unironically post inspirational quotes, and endless photos of my abs! I want to know what exactly a burpee is, because it sounds disgusting but I suspect it involves wine!
So I purchased some chocolate protein powder, because I love chocolate. People say that it tastes better than chocolate, and they can’t even tell the difference between the two and those people are liars. I wanted chocolate for breakfast, but I don’t know how to make pancakes or waffles so instead I added it to my coffee. Whoa bad idea, it was clumpy and disgusting and I had to throw it out. I then added it to water and it tasted not at all like chocolate, but more like chocolate’s second cousin who is no longer invited to family reunions after peeing in the bushes at Aunt Clara’s garden party. Gross.
I ate seven donuts for breakfast instead #IIFYM
Fitness is easy!
“Smashing leg day” is a thing I have heard quite a bit, and I thought it would make a good starting point—smashing things is a favorite past time of mine. I mean, I am super terrible at Super Smash Brothers but I love placing the characters close to one another and letting go of the controllers so they awkwardly hump one another. That counts right? Mostly I was searching for the proper occasion to create a smashing-themed playlist (read in Austin Power’s voice naturally) featuring Smash Mouth and the Smashing Pumpkins.
I began by following approximately fifty fitness gurus on Instagram, all of whom appear to be about twelve years of age with intense six packs, a penchant for mirror pics sporting little-to-no clothing, and an overuse of exclamation points. I personally hate exclamation points, because I dislike joy or excitement expressed in any form.
An hour and a half later, I had a few exercises to try so I headed to the gym. I warmed up with a set of mirror photos flexing my virtually nonexistent guns in the mirror until someone walked in and I started looking at my phone and laughing maniacally as though I had received the most hilarious message on earth. In case you were wondering, it was pretty obvious what I had been doing so all this achieved was making me look like a complete psycho.
So I am the sweatiest person ever to exist so I am not sure why I chose to wear a grey cotton t-shirt to the gym but I did. You are welcome everyone.
The person on the treadmill next to me tripped and fell off backwards SO HARD, and all I could focus on was not laughing. Before I look like the biggest asshole, which I may or may not be, let it be stated they were clearly okay. They immediately got up, but the hardest part of my workout was not laughing in their face. Maybe that means I did not successfully smash my workout or whatever.
Afterwards, while browsing fitness quotes it became evident I not only failed to smash but did not even begin to..poke it. What is the workout spectrum anyway? Poke to Tap to Slap to Punch to Crush to Smash to Explode?
The motivational quotes I found were seriously fucking terrifying, and more than a little sadistic.
I mean I got this one down already
Cool, this is easy. This next one was encouraging as well, I have six months and some spare cash for plastic surgery! I can make myself look exactly like this person, find out where she lives, and show up at her house.
And I mean, I can run once and be sexy as fuck. Sounds like a sweet deal, fitness is the best!
Then this popped up:
OKAY this escalated quickly. If I am in pain, crying, bleeding, or crawling I think I am going to quit working out. If I ever saw someone doing any of the above I would be seriously freaked out.
I super don’t want to puke while working out! Why must we puke? This all sounds terrible! I’m not sure this whole fitness thing is for me.
I hate suffering! This person is crazy!
This seems less than realistic, and kind of inappropriate. Family dinner would get a little awkward. I even live alone and this seems like an idiotic thing to do. So I should just casually eat soup in my bathroom naked?
Okay yeah, I was in for that.
Lunch was donuts, naked in my bathroom.
So was dinner.
I watched fifteen episodes of The Biggest Loser and did burpees** during the commercials.
The next day I could, in fact, walk but it was rather painful and I took great pleasure in informing those around me that yesterday had been leg day.