A lot more hotties at the gym than I remembered

So today, I renewed my gym membership. I have to admit that at thirty, I am pretty happy with my weight. I weigh exactly the same as I did in high school for whatever reason (probably the cigarettes and coffee) and “the girls” are still pretty much in the right place. The biggest change in my appearance since high school is bangs, which my massive forehead desperately needed. I’m not really joining the gym to loose weight —but rather to combat the non-smoker’s weight. THIS IS THE SINGLE REASON WHY IT IS SO MUCH HARDER FOR WOMEN TO QUIT SMOKING THAN MEN. I’m not a scientist or anything, but it’s true. The last time I quit smoking I gained 10lbs. and lost a boyfriend. (The irony there was that I quit for him, but that’s another story for another time.) This is a super important issue that seriously needs to be considered before you quit smoking! I know it sounds vain, but ladies, the road to ex-smoker is filled with landmines. Let’s not let your weight weigh in. (LOL, is that me or is that a comedian? I just don’t know.)

I got a pretty good deal and am stoked. Two years ago a good friend of mine and I took step classes and while I looked like a major a-clown (I’m not ready to swear on this biatch yet), it worked pretty well. The buddy system has it’s benefits as far as working out goes. I cannot begin to tell you how important that is. If you’re quitting smoking or just starting a regular work-out: ENLIST, ENLIST, ENLIST! It’ll make it hella easier. (Again, not a scientist, but believe this to be true as well.)

But I decided that I’ll probably need a little more help with this: A personal trainer.

Okay, so I didn’t get a personal trainer, because it worked itself out to be $60 a session. However, I did get a free session with trainer Matt (who probably knows more about hair gel than I do) next Tuesday, December 29th. His hair is so big and his muscles are pretty bulging as well. (And was that a half-shirt?)  I’m desperately afraid that he will a) make me drink muscle milk, b) sucker me into calling my broker and taking a huge penalty against what little 401K savings I have to buy sessions, and finally c) smell like brocoli.

Totally, totally, never in a million years my type, yet I find myself a little curious. Unfortunately for you… you’ll probably learn a lot more about my complete and utter weirdness than smoking cessation on my blog.

P.S. While doing some last minute Christmas shopping I ran into my friend Billy who inquired about my new (flaming lame) track suit. After much ado, I finally got to the point that I am going to quit smoking soon… to which he rolled his eyes. (Just a little FYI on what you folks are in for.)

I’m gonna go smoke like a champ now.

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