I want to tell you about the time I cheated on my husband. No, not in real life, but in my head, over and over, with a trainer at my gym. Yeah, I want to discuss something lots of women have experienced, but few have admitted: the gym crush.
It started when the club hired a new trainer. He made a huge splash. This guy had tons of personal charisma, and a face and body to back it up. All the ladies were buzzing about it, even some of the female trainers were giddy and flirty when he was around. You have to understand that my gym is in a small town, so everybody sees the same people day after day, and when someone new shows up it's an event. Especially since he's so darn pretty.
So here I was, still working out in my huge stretched-out navy t-shirt and tired old black leggings, keeping to myself, listening to music, and working out day after day. I still wondered about Lone Guy, but he was getting boring, and (after finding the nerve to look at his face) less interesting by the day. It was almost the perfect storm: I needed a new distraction, a new motivation. Let's face it, the gym can get kind of boring! Besides which, this was my special alone time to forget about my two kids, husband, house, and the various domestic duties of a stay-at-home mom.
I remember the first time he talked to me -- I swear I couldn't even hear what he was saying, I was mesmerized by his eyes while his voice was off somewhere droning on, as if he were speaking gibberish or a foreign language. I actually had to shut my mouth; it was like a scene from a not-very-good romantic comedy. After he was done saying whatever it was he said, I smiled, nodded my head, and turned to walk away. I then tripped over my own feet and slammed into a wall ... no I'm not joking! I laughed and said something like "I meant to do that" ... oh good one, impress him with a quote from Pee-wee Herman. GAWD! I am such a dork!
This was the start of my new obsession. I would go to the gym and work out as always, but would make sure I knew where he was at all times. I became super-aware of my fat rolls, which made me more determined than ever to reach my fitness goal.
I will never forget doing a set of sit-ups in what I thought was an out-of-the-way location, when all of a sudden he appears before me. "Hi Kirsta, how's it going?"
"Great," I said, thinking to myself, holy crap he just saw my full-frontal belly rolls. I stopped the sit-ups, pretending to finish my set. I was thinking about what I could do next that was still exercise but more flattering. All I could come up with was some lame stretches. OK, lesson learned, now I knew I had to hide a little better when doing core ab work.
This was my new self-created drama; it made my day fun, and kept my motivation high.