Let’s face it: my diet of tacos and tequila isn’t exactly going to stave off diabetes. So, I work out. I work out in a gym, a 24-Hour Fitness that is actually open 24 hours, because I keep strange hours and hiking the Griffith Observatory at midnight isn’t what I’d call safe. When I tell people (girls, specifically) that I workout in a co-ed gym, this is usually the response I get:
“OMG aren’t you embarrassed? Can’t people see you in the windows working out? I don’t want people to see me working out. What if there’s a cute boy? Or god what if someone sees my fat jiggling? What if I’m doing it wrong?”
Every. Single. Time. What is up with girls being weird about their bodies? KNOCK IT OFF. Look, when I’m working out, I am WAY more concerned with not hitting myself in the face with my boobs as I run on a treadmill – not because I care if someone sees it, but because I don’t want to DIE. So here you go: this is what I notice while working out. None of it involves anybody else’s jiggle.
Brenda (Bette Midler): Aren’t you frustrated? You climb + climb + go nowhere.
Elise (Goldie Hawn): I love it! Burns off the booze.
