Tag Archives: exercise

Houston, we have a problem.

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In an effort to try eating healthier, I started doing the keto diet. Unfortunately, I also have a sweet tooth. So, what do you do when you want something sweet but don’t want the carbs? Foods with sugar alcohols, of course. Now, we all know what this does. I accounted for this. I’ve taken very good care to make sure that I don’t eat too much and have to run to the bathroom every 15 minutes. I have also taken to chewing a lot of gum in order to try to curb the sweet tooth.

The other day as I’m in the middle of a squat with a Backstreet Boy in weight on me it hits. Mother. Of. God. I forgot to account for the sugar free gum. All of a sudden I have stomach cramping and the undeniable urge to poo that I know is not going to be solid. So now I have a dilemma. I have to tighten muscles to stand back up and put the weight back on the rack, but I also can’t stay where I am much longer because, well, CODE BROWN. All of this takes about 20 seconds while I’m still squatting and my personal trainer is starting to look at me questioningly. My stomach does that rumbly thing. Loudly. I mouth “help” and she grabs the bar. With panic in my eyes, I don’t even wait to see if she put the weight away before I start walking to the bathroom as quickly as I can without anything slipping out.

The world is ending in this moment and I’m just praying that I don’t shit myself before I can get my leggings down and am sitting on the toilet. After all, I was going straight home after this work out and I didn’t bring a change of clothes – I can’t very well get out to my car without pants on. By some stroke of fate or a small miracle, I make it. The noise – the sound – the relief! Blessedly, my trainer did not come looking for me. After about 20 minutes I feel OK enough to move from the toilet, but there’s no way I can face “L” again today…or do any more squats. I text her from the bathroom stall and then slip out quietly through the front door without making eye contact with anyone.

I haven’t chewed gum since…not sure I want to chance it.

Just one pull-up…

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I’m not a girly-girl. Sure, I can do my makeup and straighten my hair. I even get my eyebrows done every once in a while. But I also cuss like a sailor, ask guys out, have tattoos, and will choose a dark beer over wine every time. If I were a size 6, none of these things would matter but I’m not so they do. I’ve come to a point in life where I really want to be healthier.

But here’s the problem : I fucking hate working out. There is absolutely nothing fun about running on a modified hamster wheel while your boobs fly at your own face threatening bodily harm and your lungs feel like they’ve shrunk three sizes.

My entire fitness regime points toward one goal : a single pull-up. I’ve never been able to do a pull-up. Push-ups, planks, bicep curls, tricep presses – all of these are attainable, sometimes even at heavier weights than one would deem “feminine”. But pull-ups might as well be the Sasquatch of my workout routine.

I have a gym membership and a workout tank that says “If squats were easy they’d be called your mom” – now begins the “Search for Sasquatch”.