Moms. They’re everywhere, and these days they seem to be taking over the fitness world in droves!
Or are they?
Seeing that moms have already taken it upon themselves to overstretch the fashion industry with their undying obsession with lycra and spandex, the fitness frauds can now have their cake and eat it, too– literally! All while decked out in a full-body assault of athleisurewear.
Any. Time. Of. Day.
We’re asking a lot of our Spandex these days– but from where I sit, settled in the comfort of my overpriced glorified sweatpants, in what feels like the epicenter of Fit & Fab, I dare to take on a new set of Moms I’d Like to Punch: The Fitness Moms.
In the suburbs, choosing a fitness center is much like choosing a sorority–Greek life for adults! Choose wisely as you will be wearing your gym letters, ‘checking in’ on their behalf and just like in college, you’ll likely make your way to getting wasted with this sisterhood, and ‘working off the guilt’ as a team the next day, obvi.
The two-week discount passes? RUSH.
Your first few brutal classes? HAZING.
The first sign of a muscle? INITIATION.
What school do you go to? Name Town.
What sorority are you in? Name Gym.
Each fitness group garners its own reputation:
The Yogis, The Beefcakes, The Boot Camp Brigade.
The Dancers, The Herbal Enhancers, The I’m Only Here to Get Laid.
The Spinners, The Winners, The All Shakes and No Dinners.
From Crossfit to HIIT class…I’ve worked hard, get a look at this ass!
(Rolling your non-gym-going eyes in judgment, well you should! But you don’t get off with a pass. Your volunteer endeavors, sports clubs, mothers’ groups all have reputations too– you may be next!) But for now…
The I’m Not In It To Be Fit MILP
As the person who puts broccoli on a pizza and considers herself ‘nutritionally woke’, I also declare victory for simply making contact with the threshold of a fitness facility. Much like marriage, our never-ending, legally-binding contract gives me the sense that we’re in it for the long haul, for better or worse. Socializing, passing time and yes, toning up are all factors of our mangled relationship …oh, and the juvenile pleasure of getting ample opportunity to think, say or mutter, ‘That’s What She Said’. (That’s a whole other post!)
Favorite post-workout activity? Meeting up for coffee or better yet, breakfast, just after having come to the gym.
The Instructor MILP
Their undying love for fitness is commendable. (Eye roll.) These goddesses of all things fitness slay the day. When you know they’ve taught ten classes this week and still casually glide past your house every. single. morning. on their five-mile run, it’s only natural that you considering running, too– running them over with your car.
The Full Face of Make-up MILP
A girl’s gotta look good, right? YES!
Most people frown upon wearing making at the gym. For me, I never leave the house without scribbling on some eyebrows to avoid looking like a victim from a grilling accident. Group fitness brings out the best and the worst of people, and for some–their best is done in full-on GLAM. Lipliner, eyeliner, lashes galore; I’ve seen (and likely done) it all!
The I’m Here to be Zen and I Can’t Put My F&cking Phone Down MILP
I feel like I’m telepathically talking to my kids.
Put. Your. Phone. Down.
There are at most fifty freaking minutes to let that shit go. When your phone vibrates, lights up or dings it’s a buzz kill for all of us. Put your phone in the hall, on SILENCE! Now you’ve ruined my Zen.
PS- If you are going to post a pic, for the love of gawd, use a filter, get my good side, and don’t forget to tag me! (See why we need make-up?)
The Nutritional Cleansing MILP
Whether you sell it or buy it: You’ve entered A VERY COMMITTED CRAZY ZONE!
I’ve been there– so not judging, but OMG bring it down a notch.
I need to tell you WE LOVE YOU when you looked like your before picture and WE’LL LOVE YOU AGAIN when you look like your before picture six months from now, just like you still love me. (I think!) The good news– we’ll see you at the gym and then get breakfast after, k?
The My Smell is Now Your Smell MILP
I know. You had no choice and it’s worse for you than it is for us. But these small studios do not have the wherewithal to evacuate your last minute poop before class. I don’t want to go in there after you– What if they think it was me?!
That phrase, ‘you think your shit don’t stink,’ it’s false! No such thing! Your poops stink. Your toots stink. And so does your ever-loving body– we know who is sweating straight vodka from drunk yoga last night. PSA: Chew the gum–Deo the B.O. — Down the second coffee so you can smooth your move at home.
The I’m Not Here to be Your Friend MILP
I’ll admit, I’m a little envious of your ability to just shut it all off. I don’t know how to not talk to people. You clearly do. But I’m a people person and I will get you to talk to me, and with time, you’ll like it.
The I Don’t Work Out but I Have the Best Athleisure Wardrobe MILP
Well, you win.
The Drunk Fitness MILP
The Grand Poobah of them all!
YOU take the cake for the Mom I’d Like to Punch the most.
I see you at parties, and at times, in my living room.
You get a few drinks in you and let it all out!
No, not like toot and poop mom– but like drunk yoga mom.
The plank on plank on plank mom(s).
The look at me hold this pose that leaves me hovering on one finger mom.
You are literally beaming fitness while drunk. Were you drinking unicorn pee while I was downward dogging rose’? Because I’m over here ‘heavily buzzed’ calculating just how many Hot Pockets I can fit into my mouth without choking, and you’re all-guh!
It’s a universal truth that when you’re drunk, you eat.
So when we drink, I want you by my side rifling through the cabinets and freezers soul searching for what we’ll consume next, having painfully singed our tongues because we were too impatient to wait for it to cool. We’re a team, remember?! A sisterhood.
Workout Of the Day is for THE DAY. And when I’m home having a good time, the only WOD I’m interested in is…ah, forget it. You do you– more Hot Pockets for me.
. . . . .
So there you have it. I may find myself with a revoked membership by morning and where will that leave me? To hang with the ‘I Don’t Work Out but I have the Best Athleisure Wardrobe MILP,’ thank you very much!
But I suspect you’ll let me back and laugh this off just knowing that I am universally a Mom You’d Like to Punch: The Know-It-All-Blogger Edition!
. . .
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