Let's Get Physical

i found a new boyfriend. his name is jim. we have been having the most physically intense relationship i've ever known. jim always leaves me hot and sweaty, activating muscles i didn't know i had. and he's never too busy to spend time with me. in fact, i can see him whenever i want, and the more comfortable i get with jim, the more often i pay him a visit.

he's pretty forgiving, though he knows when i've cheated. that's when he gets punishing and makes me work harder and sweat more. i don't mind, though. i know he has my best interests at heart and i want to give myself to him even more, but i need to work on building my momentum first. he can really wear me out, making me sleep so well at night. i know he has a certain reputation and is known to many around town. i'm not upset by it, because i understand what they saw in jim. in a way, i wish i was there first, but i'm there now and that's all that matters. this is a relationship built to last.

i pack a special bag whenever i go see jim. it holds the necessities -- change of clothes, some toiletries, a towel. he lets me stay as long as i want, though sometimes the physicality overwhelms me and i have to retreat and regain my energy before taking him on again.

he understands. he's so patient like that. jim doesn't question or judge. he accepts me unconditionally. he makes me want to take better care of myself and to be a better person. but he doesn't say it because he doesn't have to. he just knows and i know too. our communication is telepathic. in just a few short weeks, he's changed my life by injecting me with life. he's given me so much more energy and vitality, reminding me of things i'd forgotten about myself.

plus, he's way hot. jim has soccer thighs, oh yeah. actually, he has many pairs of soccer thighs. only problem is he can be a little stinky, and sometimes too many of his other girlfriends are over at his house when i am, forcing me to wait until he frees up. but he has the best sign over the front door of his house. it reads: YMCA. cool, huh? it always reminds me of that Village People song, with accompanying hand motions.

gym is gonna help me lose 10 pounds. the final 10 i've been trying to lose for the past 10 years. they say those are the hardest. (hands up, how many of you suckers were fooled?)

i must have been the last twentysomething in glamorious los angeles without a gym membership. i would often poo-poo the idea, snickering, "i can't imagine sitting on a bike for 20 minutes and not going anywhere." but now the stationary bike is part of my workout routine. i guess this, coupled with the new corporate job, completes the conformity. i'll get a bar code tattooed on my neck now.

it's not that i was miserable with my appearance, but this office ass (or, as my officemate calls it, the secretary spread) was getting out of hand. my clothes began fitting more tightly. with all the office birthday parties and amateur chefs bringing in baked goods, i began indulging in sugary treats -- which generally don't entice me as much as salty goodies -- but it became habit where i needed my daily sugar fix.

the resulting bulge was unseemly. drastic times indeed. so i joined the Y that's just down the road from my work. and the good news is that work pays 50% of my monthly dues and deducts the rest right outta my paycheck. so i've been seeing gym 3-4 times a week for evening rendezvous where we do cardio and yoga. the best part comes at the end of our dates when we sit in the steam room together and really let the sweat flow. that part alone might be worth the entire membership fee.

so yes, 10 pounds by summer, maybe 15 if i begin to love the burn, which i doubt. i've always hated exercise and as much as i've tried to reprogram my brain into loving it, i would still rather sit on my couch at home and eat bon-bons. yoga is the only activity i've ever taken to, but that's low impact and more to keep my back healthy. the only other things worth sweating for are dancing and sex (and steam room). well, and now the treadmill and stationary bike. reprogram. reprogram.

i'm trying to think of all the benefits, especially how nice it would be to be at my san francisco weight. but it was easier then -- i was younger and traversing the city involved climbing concrete mountains. now i can barely speedwalk a 15-minute mile. now i can't skip meals like i used to. now i'm a nonsmoker and don't enjoy the sped-up metabolism that a breakfast of cigarettes and coffee once provided. now i can actually afford good food and don't have to rely on a diet of top ramen and canned tuna.

but now i also live in los angeles, where you can never be too skinny. it's not that i hate my body. i've always been a curvy girl, and after years of struggling with yo-yo diets and self-esteem crap back in high school, i've finally learned to be comfortable and confident in my own skin. plus, i think every woman, regardless of her appearance, is critical of her own body. that's why i don't read beauty magazines -- they always make me feel ugly and inadequate. and i want to keep my soft shape. just with a bit less padding.

so it's just gym and i. jim and i. he's my main squeeze. and hopefully, with time, discipline and hard work, there will be a little less of me to squeeze.