I Always Feel Like Somebody’s Talking To Me

Written by Lindsay Scouras

I know what you’re thinking.


I swear I will not only be posting about my lame attempts at an exercise routine (maybe not so much a routine, just a general butt-shrinking in order to fit into my bridesmaid dress) for the rest of my blogging life. It just seems that no matter what I do, I can’t seem to stick to anything, and something about sharing via the Inter-web sort of makes me accountable for keeping up with it. Even if I am boring everyone senseless.

Don’t worry. We will get back to all the juicy stuff eventually.

So today I was determined to get back on the workout wagon. Since I have yet to create Lindsay’s Ultimate Calorie Burning Playlist, I was really counting on being able to watch hour 53 of the Kardashian wedding special. However for the past three weeks now ALL THREE REMOTES in the gym have been missing. MISSING! Like stuck on Court TV missing. I always bring a backup book or magazine in case other people have beat me to it and commandeered the TV and have it set on something stupid, but I really do not enjoy reading while exercising because I feel like my eyes are bouncing all over the place.

When I got the gym I saw that there was one lone woman walking on the treadmill. I was just grateful that it wasn’t A.) WL Man or B.) a super teeny fit skinny lady. However I was less enthralled when less than one minute after entering she stated “they really need to get an ab machine up in this place!”

I looked around, confused. No intro or anything, she just started talking to me like we were old pals halfway through an hour long convo. “Yeah,” I laughed nervously. “I guess that’s the only thing they don’t have.”

“I really need to do my ab workouts. I used to be in here all the time and I haven’t been lately and I’m trying to get back into it,” she continued.

“Uh-huh.” *Put headphones on get on elliptical*

“What do you think of the elliptical?” she asked.

“What?” *Is this seriously happening*

“Like do you think it works?” Wait, is she calling me fat? Like she’s implying the whole 3.5 hours I have spent slaving over that machine aren’t immediately visible to the common gym goer?

“Um, I don’t know. I’m really the wrong person to ask. I only do this because I hate running.”

I stupidly thought that I was in the clear after that. Headphones on, book open, didn’t matter- she kept going.

“Do you know how to work these thing?” she asked, pointing one of the three remotes that miraculously showed up at one TV and another one turned on instead.

This is the part where I pretended I couldn’t hear her. “Um, what?”

“I can’t get these things to work. Like I’m pointing at this one and that one turns on instead. What is going on?!”

“I have no idea. I don’t even know how to use those things because they are normally never here.” I glanced at her machine. 1:13 left. Thank God.

“Well this is just crazy. I don’t know what to do with these things,” she said. I glance again. 1:46 left. What, wtf?!

Somehow by the grace of God she finishes her workout and then begins the most thorough treadmill wipe down I have EVER SEEN. Like she was getting all up in every nook, cranny and appendage with that Purell wipe.

“Okay, I’m going to go now. Bye!”

“Um, bye.” I couldn’t even pretend I was going to wait for her to fully exit the building before I leaped off my machine, grabbed THE CORRECT REMOTE and switched over to E! the second that KK’s Fairytale Wedding Special Event Extravaganza began.

I did 30 minutes of cardio, on Level 3 (that one’s for you, Steve), ROLLING and 4 sets of 10 reps (that’s right, I have learned some gym vocab) on some sort of arm press thing. And then I came home and immediately stuffed my face with a pita pocket pizza. Don’t worry- it was whole wheat. And I only ate three handfuls of shredded mozzarella out of the bag. I am totally gaining self control over my binging. I’m in a much better place in my food consumption.

That and Steve saw me sneak it into the bedroom and decided to hide the bag from me.

Whatevs. I plan on waking up skinny tomorrow.

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