I am going to admit it freely I have been a bit of a chocolate hoarding slacker lately. So, I went back to the gym today from a week-long hiatus. It just so happened that I went around 5 o’clock. Usually I avoid this time of day because that’s when all the do-gooders get off work and go to the gym like it’s their religion. That and there is a middle-aged woman who always walks like a maniac on a treadmill at that time and the way her hair bounces with each step irritates the shit out of me. But today I was met with a whole new breed of do-gooder, the resolution pack…

The resolution pack is a bunch of unfamiliar faces who have come to the gym to kick off their resolution to get thin this year. At first I got a bit prickly over all of the people and the fact that they all talk loudly and I can barely hear my Say Yes to the Dress re-run in my headphones. But when I looked over at them I realized that these people are more out of shape than I am. The guy next to me was thin but he was going super slow and with no resistance on his elliptical. And, the woman on the treadmill was panting and sweating while going a zombie pace. When I turned on a fan on the floor to blow up at me (blow my shirt up like Marilyn Monroe but with white spare tires) the slowpoke next to me gave me a thumbs up instead of bitching at me about having a fan on.

This resolution pack is quite nice to look at too with their fat rolls and sweat stains. They look me. And while I love the meathead teen boys who frequent this place and talk about protein powder and how many hours they put in these people seemed more chill and just happy to be there at all.

I was actually enjoying the new faces and the air of BO stink and fleeting motivation until I saw the freaks in my periphery…these resolutioners were all wearing the same t-shirt that read, “Taking it to the Next Level.” They were all in their 30s-40s and on the back of their matching t-shirts  was the name of their group like they were a biker gang and the words, “Boot Camp.” A friend of mine joined one of these once and they met in parks and she lost like a million pounds and turned into a total bitch. But her group met in a park. And here these bitches were invading my gym. And before I knew it I was distracted. Instead of using the equipment provided by the gym they congregated and started to do jumping jacks in unison. Like in movies about biker gangs from the 1950s I wonder if these freaks will take over the gym and ruin my television viewing while riding my trusty elliptical. Maybe next time I go in I’ll start lifting weights and looking more tough. Maybe I could team up with the meatheads and we could run them out of town. Or maybe my fellow softies from the other half of the resolution pack will rise up. Nah. One thing is for sure if those bitches are going to be coming onto my turf when a Duck Dynasty or Dance Moms marathon is on there is going to be hell to pay.