It seems like the month of impulse decisions.

On Sunday, i joined a gym. One of the widely advertised ones in a premium location with fancy taglines. The kinds i used to swear myself against. I have become, as Disco so eloquently put it, yuppie scum. As my early morning wardrobe selection is progresively smaller, limited to clothes that do not involve front buttons, zips or anything figure hugging i started to worry that if i dont do anything about this increase weight gain and extreme unhealthy lifestyle in six months i'm not going to look twice bigger then Aji as i am now, but three folds bigger. And nobody likes the fear of accidently rolling over ones boyfriend and squashing him to pancakes.

So yea, i have a plan now. As i have had since i was 16. I'm going to first work on the cardio and stamina. Occasionally drop by the fun classes like salsa and hip hop - the kind where i'm conned into excercising but am actually having fun. Then slowly advance to the weight machines. Coupled with the fact that i dont actually know how to use them i'm actually a little afriad of starting on the weights for the want of echoing this friends sentiments. So i'm not pushing for my two free sessions with the personal trainer just yet. I've seen how they make the people workout and they are mean. Run! Run! Dont stop! Run!

Was people watching in the gym yesterday and i noticed that its the ones who already have excellent bodies that are going at it like their lives depended on how long they ran or how much the lifted. They come in their cute gym outfits and they attack the machines ferociously. One lady was running on the threadmill so fast and for so long at one consistent speed - no breaks, like she had this invisible something she was running towards. Maybe i should do that too, envision Brad Pitt a Big Mac and run towards it.