And Me Without My Sweat Towel!!

Like every American culture slave/addict/robot, I am trying to lose weight. I feed (and feed and consume and waste and feed...) right into it. I will obviously be happier when I lose weight.

I pay a gym to let me run on their machines, lift their weights, and stretch on their glorious mats. I've been running on this elliptical for over thirty minutes, well past my legal gym cardio limit. I'm building up to five miles a day, and apparently it takes a LONG TIME to run five miles. How long? I don't know, I keep slowing down.

A toddler stumbles by, suspended from her mother's hand. Her little brow is furrowed, mouth all open and slobbery. Oh, somebody help her understand, why are these big people running and not going anywhere, leaking out water, and wearing horribly fitted clothes? She is clearly not old enough to be confused by what she sees, and her face is probably screwed up from the general odor of the place.

Far more strange than the truly insane things you see people doing at the gym, are the smells. It's best to breathe through your mouth, but nasal passages left ajar will guide you through a forest of smells. There's all kinds of ghastly body odor, and then there's perfume, lotion, and alcohol being sweated out. I probably smell like hell, I can't remember the last time I washed this hoody, the heavy hoody I purposefully wear to make me sweat MORE.

Does this behavior sound unhealthy? Because "I workout to be healthy, to be in shape, to feel good." Certainly not to be skinny, definitely not to attain a body image I've never had... I would say something here like "fuck los angeles and all these pretty people" but the people aren't that pretty. Or, "fuck the american apparel ads, making every girl out to be starved-like-a-prisoner-of-war-skinny." But this is way older than my stay in LA, this mindset. Way older than my memory of being influenced by ads or my Barbies or whatever else screws up little girls. I can't remember a time I've been happy with my body. I imagine myself in the womb, swimming around in self hatred even before my gender developed. This image makes me laugh, and rationale takes over, thank god. Rationale, or hunger, who knows. I love food. mmmm food. I've come to terms with my body image and I'll keep working out to off set the soy lattes, the burritos, and the sushi, my true LA demons...