Gym? I Thought You Said Gin.”

 My Fitness Journey Is Mostly Just Me Walking to the Fridge.”

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I joined a gym.

Yes, me—the person who considers “stretching” a form of cardio and breaks a sweat just looking for the TV remote.

But I thought, hey, new year, new me. And that new me? She was gonna do squats. Maybe even two.

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Day 1: Showed Up in the Wrong Shoes.

Apparently, Crocs are not “performance footwear.” Who knew?

Also, tried to use a resistance band. Got stuck. Had to crab-walk out of it. No one helped.

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Day 2: Tried the Treadmill.

Started walking at a solid grandma pace. Accidentally hit the “10” speed button.

I was airborne for three seconds.

Pretty sure I saw my life flash between the treadmill cup holders.

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Day 3: Attended a Yoga Class.

The instructor said, “Let go of everything that doesn’t serve you.”

So I left. Instantly.

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Day 4: Rest day. From what? Confusion.

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Fitness Conclusion:

Turns out, my favorite workout is pretending I’m about to work out, then feeling proud enough to eat pasta and call it “carb-loading.”

So yeah, I’m fit.

Fit to take a nap.

Fit to binge-watch six episodes straight.

Fit to hold a grudge and a burrito at the same time.

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Remember: If anyone judges your fitness, jog their memory—you’re amazing just the way you are.

And probably slightly out of breath. But still amazing.