Gym treadmill entertainment comes in two varieties: gross and gluttonous
There were just two-and-half weeks until my friend Michali’s wedding and my favorite dress and I were… incompatible. Despite my mother’s protests that I had a whole wardrobe of gorgeous clothes, I knew my full-to-bursting closet was nothing but an illusion. There was nothing — nothing — I could wear except that one beautiful (now too-small) dress.
So I did the only thing I could think of: I hit the gym.
Alas, when the big day came, I did not fit into my dress. (Sorry I skipped your wedding, bestie Michali; what could I do under the circumstances?)
But I think my approach to the gym was so good that, out of the goodness of my heart, I’ll overlook the dismal results and share my fortnight-plus of insights with you.
Create a free account to keep reading.
