Wednesday, July 25, 2007

An Open letter to my Nemesis


Dear Nemesis,
I know you and you know me. Everyday when I enter the gym we face off in a silent battle. Neither of us wishes to acknowledge the battle exists but I have had enough. It's time to call you out and set the record straight. It's time to let the world know exactly what you are all about.
You are out of shape and eat trans fat. When you come to the gym you walk for 20 minutes on the treadmill at a 2.0 mph pace. You slog along on the elliptical trainer at a pace so slow it looks as though you are crawling through the dessert on a journey toward hell. You are afraid to break a sweat and you are afraid to really work. Yet you sit there and wonder why you don't lose weight. And oh yeah, you hog EVERY fan in the entire cardio room.
You look at me with a wrinkled nose and a scornful lip. You see me as a "skinny bitch" and think I've never had to struggle with my weight or body image. You watch me push the envelope and think I'm just an empty headed bimbo. You think that you are justified in monopolizing all of the fresh circulating air in the gym because "it's so much harder for you to workout" than it is for me. Sometimes you offer me a mocking apologetic smile and inane comment as you steal the fan from under my feet. Sometimes you have the nerve to say something "like sorry hon but I need this more than you". To this I say HA. I need the fan and you know it. The fact is you take secret pleasure in my excessive perspiration and dehydration. You love the fact that I am so overheated and think to yourself "that will teach you for working out so hard". Well my dear Nemesis I have news for you. Despite your attempts to turn me into a shriveled raisin, I will prevail. I'm not afraid of a little hard work or a little sweat. And even though you don't deserve it the next time I see you panting away as you walk slower than my baby crawls I will share a fan with you, because I'm not a gigantic fan hogging bitch. So to sum up the next time you steal my fan I hope you slip on my dripping pool of sweat.

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