Gym Bunny

Belly dancing is starting to get challenging. After a month at it, I'm beginning to feel the need to actually practice during the week. The moves are also starting to challenge my coordination abilities and now I actually break a sweat in class. A stark contrast to the first two weeks of class where I come back with my shirt all dry.
In addition to belly dance, I've started going to the gym. While most magazine articles make it seem like everyone's got a whole hoarde of girlfriends around and all of them are just as keen on getting fit as you are and are awesome at being a motivator, I beg to differ. Finding that buddy to join you on your fitness programme isn't as easy as I'd initially thought. This week, I managed to convince Gina to come with me. However, I'm not sure if she'll ever want to come again. By the time we were done, her legs were like jelly and She was convinced she'll wake up tomorrow morning with aching arms and legs.
There were two treadmills available at the gym. One was on, the other wasn't. And we couldn't figure out how to turn it on. So we decided to start off on the elliptical trainers. After our short workout on them, Gina was ready to sit down for the rest of the afternoon. Though a wee bit dizzy from the heat, I was still pretty determined to get my ass on a treadmill and walk off some calories. However, five minutes into my little power walk, a huge sweaty stinking guy walks up to the treadmil that we'd assumed was out of order. To my dismay, he bends over and flips a tiny switch Gina and I had missed earlier and gets on. OMG! It was pure torture....10 minutes of the smell of sweat and BO....urghhhhhhhh....
Later while we were on the exercise bikes, this African guy who'd been on one of them the whole time we were there seriously couldn't stand how clueless we were anymore. He couldn't stop himself from giving hits like where the "On" button Gina yet again couldn't find was, or how I should place my feet on the pedals or how I should adjust my seat if I wanted to cycle at a higher resistance.
After only an hour at the gym, Gina could barely make it down the four steps to the weight training and locker area, and I was feeling a little woozy myself. We dragged ourselves along the wall all the way down the stairs to the car park. And the one hot guy there was like "You're done already?" as we dragged our asses to our gym bags (agh! why do I always look terrible in front of the hot ones?! More on that some other time...)
But yes, I so have to do this again. Mum actually said my ass looked big yesterday! My own Mum! The one who's never been judgemental, never told me to be on a diet in my life....this is bad...