The gym I finally joined a few weeks ago is a pretty simple place. It should be for just $10 a month. There are about three rows of cardio machines: treadmills, stationary bikes and my two favorites, the elliptical and the gazelle. There is also an extensive weight training area, with actual weights and several machines. I haven't ventured that way yet, mainly because the sweaty boys are intimidating and I can just use the weights at our apartment complex.
Anyway, about 15 TVs are spread in front of the cardio machines, each on a different channel. I bring my iPod to listen to, but often glance up at a few of the screens to keep my eyes occupied. I'm amused because amid "Seinfeld," "Hardball" and the local news, there is the Food Network. And around the time I'm there, two of the most unhealthy shows are on: "Barefoot Contessa" and "Paula's (Dean) Home Cooking."
Both women, while very talented in the kitchen, serve up recipes packed with salt, butter, flour and sugar ... usually, they're pasta-based, battered in some fashion or coated in chocolate. My jaw drops as I watch the horror, however delicious it all is. Sometimes it makes me hungry since I'm there after work, but usually I chuckle at the absurdity of watching something so unhealthy while striving to be fit.
Anyway, about 15 TVs are spread in front of the cardio machines, each on a different channel. I bring my iPod to listen to, but often glance up at a few of the screens to keep my eyes occupied. I'm amused because amid "Seinfeld," "Hardball" and the local news, there is the Food Network. And around the time I'm there, two of the most unhealthy shows are on: "Barefoot Contessa" and "Paula's (Dean) Home Cooking."
Both women, while very talented in the kitchen, serve up recipes packed with salt, butter, flour and sugar ... usually, they're pasta-based, battered in some fashion or coated in chocolate. My jaw drops as I watch the horror, however delicious it all is. Sometimes it makes me hungry since I'm there after work, but usually I chuckle at the absurdity of watching something so unhealthy while striving to be fit. Yesterday, the television I was in front of while on the gazelle machine was tuned to a sports station covering a wrestling/boxing match. I stared up in amazement at A)why men would want to wrestle professionally and 2)why they would want the daylights beaten out of them while thousands of people look on. There was blood all over their face, their ears, lips and eyes were swollen ... gross. I don't get it. One guy had the other one pinned and was pounding his head, over and over. Soon after, he was getting kicked in the chest — repeatedly.
One of my husband's favorite movies is "Rocky." He loves the Philadelphia backdrop — his hometown — and somehow through Sly Stallone's awesome acting, the lesson of overcoming. Watching what I did, yesterday, however, I couldn't find the deeper meaning in getting pulverized, all the while trying to win a giant, glistening belt that you couldn't possibly wear anywhere ... at least not fashionably.
Am I missing something?
One of my husband's favorite movies is "Rocky." He loves the Philadelphia backdrop — his hometown — and somehow through Sly Stallone's awesome acting, the lesson of overcoming. Watching what I did, yesterday, however, I couldn't find the deeper meaning in getting pulverized, all the while trying to win a giant, glistening belt that you couldn't possibly wear anywhere ... at least not fashionably.
Am I missing something?
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