New Year, New Workout… Or Not

In the early days of our relationship, my husband played soccer. I’m sure Victoria Beckham will back me up when I say soccer players are hot. John loved the game for its own sake, while I, being chronically bad at any sport involving a ball, just wanted to work out. I tried every aerobic exercise fad there was. If there was a VHS made for it during the 80′s and 90′s, I did it. While John was never the gym rat I was, we consummated our commitment by joining a health club together. He wore his soccer jersey and I sported a fluorescent thong over black biker shorts. We were extra sexy. And in shape. We even played wallyball. Top that.

Read the rest of Losers Always Win on Citibabes

If you like this essay, you’ll love my two collections, Blacklisted from the PTA and Who Peed on My Yoga Mat?

Image: Ernst Vikne, Flickr

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