So I’ve been feeling sluggish and achey today, craving some of that juicy sweaty endorphin-y exercise goodness. Preferably involving some kind of dance, but I’m not terribly picky as long as it’s not running or marathon crunches. And so I’m sitting at work, bored and fantasizing about moving my body to a thumping rock beat, and I notice an ad for a workout place – right by my work! Oh, how exciting! Click click click!
. . . Oooh. Hang on. The picture’s kind of a red flag:
Creepily similar, perfectly coiffed women looking fierce-yet-feminine and *definitely not sweating* in their matching outfits? Not really my vibe, but I’ve heard it’s a good workout, so I’ll keep reading . . .
“This workout will target problem areas like the back of the arms, thighs, seat and abs.”
Seriously? Seriously. Seriously??
My body is not a problem to be solved.
My body is a soft animal that loves sunlight, touch, and melted cheese. My body is my wisest teacher. My body works day and night to support me in whatever I decide to do. My body is me, and I am my body.
I am not a problem to be solved.