Shocker, right? I definitely look like someone that would be all over that. I always say the best way to watch The Ellen DeGeneres Show is on the treadmill.
While maintaining the utmost respect for people who take care of their bodies, I am perfectly happy not to be one. You will not see me rollerblading down Henderson Highway to work, hear me asking for “dressing on the side,” or drinking Molson Canadian 67. I am more likely to be seen waving at rollerbladers I don’t know, asking if I can have the dressing you didn’t finish, and high-fiving the workers at the MLCC as I walk out with my second bottle of wine that weekend. I would much rather dress in baggy dude clothes and eat pizza 8 days a week than count every calorie so I can wear a crop top to a music festival in July. And for the people that love flower head bands and showing their tummies, you do you! You look great. Keep up the good work.
JUST KEEP ME OUT OF IT.
When did fitness become some sort of religion? I’m not throwing shade at anybody for slipping on some running shoes and kicking ass at the gym but don’t make me feel like a lesser human because I’m not interested. If one day I am happier in a bathing suit than with a poutine, you will be my first call, but don’t hold your breath for it. You have fun at your beach volleyball game, I’ll buy you beer when you’re done. Pointing out how many calories are in the pizza I’m about to devour does not make me want to put it down; it makes me want to stuff pepperoni in your mouth until I can’t understand you.
Your own pepperoni, of course, because I’m not sharing mine.