I work out for me! Or do I…?

“Damn girl, keep doing what you’re doing! If you keep it up you’ll be married within a week. I know, you got that look. But make sure you don’t burn, ain’t nobody want no red chick..!”

As I ran around the lake, I passed by these motivating fellas, shouting me along my path. I laughed all the way home (while I put on my sweater to block the sun’s burning rays), thinking of how far away from the truth they were. But then I started reflecting on it. Am I really working out just for me?

I love to think I work out strictly for myself: “because it makes me feel good,” or due to its health benefits. But how good do I really feel trying to get up from that tenth pushup, and how healthy is blacking out at the end of a spin-class?

And then we have lunges. I honestly believe the devil created lunges. Would I really suffer through these hellish moves if I didn’t expect someone to look at my bare butt once in a while?

I sure don’t think I’ll attract a husband by running around the lake a couple of times a week. But I don’t think it pulls down the odds either.

Memories of suddenly falling in love with the stair-master every time I fell in love with a new man started emerging. Reluctantly, I had to admit that maybe, just maybe, I work out for others too.

Thankfully, I do yoga just for me. However, I can’t deny I like answering “yes” to “so, you’re a yoga teacher, are you like really bendy and shit?” A comment that probably counts more as a warning sign than anything else.

Damn it! At least I still have pole dancing. I’m sure that one is just for me..!