slow wife of a fast kid

So... I made myself a little profile on FastRunningBlog.com. This is probably the funniest thing I have ever done considering (a) I'm not all that funny to begin with and (b) the verb Run and I are not good friends. At all. I guess you could call us frienemies. This is doubly funny because I have had only one person-frienemy in my whole life, and she has nothing to do with running. She probably dislikes it as well, which gives us one more checkpoint in the Awkward Things We Have in Common column. But that's beside the point. Check out my sweet elliptical stats here!

I have a long history of starting workout routines, sweating, and immediately giving up thereafter. Tuesday was Day 2 of a new routine I just made up called Running for the Rest of My Life, and I was feeling pretty strong as I strut over to our tiny apartment gym. Let me paint a picture of the gym for you: 15'x20', 1 ceiling fan circulating on low, 1 big screen TV set up high so as not to be reached without a working remote, and 1 working elliptical. There are a few other cardio machines and a small plot of land for the weight machines, but the elliptical is generally my weapon of choice.

Now that you know what it's like... I go to punch in my code to the outside door and happen to catch a glimpse of the inhabitants of the gym right before entering. There are already FIVE whole people up in there! And 3/5 of them are super sweaty already. I was about to turn back, but I said unto myself, "No! Arnold Schwarzenegger never said this would be easy, just that it would be worth it!" Then I contemplated Kate Bosworth's abs in "Blue Crush" and how mine didn't look anything like that.

And suddenly I was in the gym, on the elliptical, stationed behind the sweatiest girl I had ever seen. She literally appeared to have dumped a gallon of water on herself from the neck down. I had seen her before. I one time tried to race her when she came in to run on the treadmill.

I'm pretty sure she won.

I have since named her Robin, because Husband and I agree that she looks like Robin Hood. Not so much the fox one. Not really the Men in Tights one. Not the Kevin Costner one. And definitely not the Russell Crowe one. So I'm not really sure what brought us to that conclusion. It just happened.

Robin is great motivation, though. She has the body of a slim 5'4" soccer player. And definitely the hair of one, too. After she got done with what I can only assume to have been a few hours of cardio, she hopped right on back to the weights. She and the huge dude in the back needed the same dumbbells at one point, and things got a little awkward. But she quickly moved onto several sets of serious crunches.

I am determined that the next time I see her, I will make her my friend. She can teach me how to be hardcore, and I can teach her... well, nothing. But that's how lots of gym friendships are, right?... I am contemplating hiring Miss Robin as my personal workout cheerleader. Not that she would ever agree to that due to the depth of her hardcoreness, but it is a motivating thought.

Robin, I'm soooo tired! And I'm all sticky! Puhleasey can I have some water?!

Cut the crap, fattycakes! You see these unbelievably sculpted calves? See these toned, photoshop-like abs? See these immaculately cropped brunette soccer woman locks of awesomeness? I didn't get where I am by being a wimp and drinking no darn water, that's for darn sure! (Except I imagine her not exactly saying wimp or darn...)

We would make such a good team!

And now a Before and After...

Trying to touch my toes. It will never work. I promise.

***Update: Day 3 of Running for the Rest of My Life was slightly less successful due to Robin's absence. But I went. I ellipticaled. I took a shower. So all in all I would say, Yay for Third-Day-Consistency!