I've been obsessed with fitness ever since I can remember. Maybe it was because I grew up in the '80s, and activities for girls revolved around a pink-haired dog that pimped nail accessories and showing the world what we could do through the fine art of ribbon dancing. I took ballet, tap dance, ice-skating lessons and all of that shit. If I wasn't so busy in high school trying to be cool and discovering that people who liked the same music I did hung out on the smoker's corner, I might have been a cheerleader, too. (My mom attempted to make me try out for the Metro State cheerleading squad, because she didn't want me to be a loser in college. I declined and spent the next eight years getting a bachelor's degree in the dead art of journalism.)
Oh, Fergie. How I admire your bodacious body. And your white girl weave.
Though I no longer participate in any sort of dance or aerobics class -- for the record, I tried Jazzersize for a month because Groupon made it extra-appealing, but I sucked at following the lady with the tiny headset's instruction because I was too busy staring at her tiny headset -- I still love the gym. Seriously, I'm one of those jerks who say they just "love going to the gym!" But now that I'm getting close to week three of the Colorado Get Movin' Challenge, I'm realizing that even for someone like me, making sure I work out every single day is tough.More »