Let's Get Physical

I joined a local gym in my neighborhood for ~4200 RMB/2 years, which is approximately $320 USD per year,  $27/month. Not a bad deal, right? Well as everything in life, it ain't worth shit if you don't use it right! :p It's a good thing that my work is less demanding these days because I usually get out before 6pm, so scheduling workouts in my daily routine is now a breeze (and hopefully a given). I'd like to hit the gym 3x a week, and then when the weather gets warmer I'll hire a tennis coach too. :)

I remember how difficult it was working in finance to squeeze in even a light 30 minute workout... back then all of the gyms in New York would close at 9 or 10pm, and of course I'd surely still be adjusting the margins on some unimportant document at work. So I shelled out $80 USD a month to use the tiny Lehman gym just so I could slow down the inevitable advancement of a matronly pear-like figure. You know that you're getting fat when you start tucking in your waist when sitting, or better yet your pants can barely contain your butt and you give yourself a nice wedgie. :p Even still I could only go to the gym maybe once a week, and after running a mile I'd have to go back to my cubicle all covered in glittery sweat, waiting until I was finally dismissed for the day. The good life, I'm telling ya.

Anyway, because I was a new member of this gym, I was assigned to a physical trainer for an assessment. I thought that perhaps they would measure my blood pressure, heart rate, lung capacity... but no, all I did was take off my shoes and socks and stand on a machine for 5 seconds. Turns out this machine zaps you with electricity and measures the different frequencies that resonate back or something. The machine ended up spitting out this customized report for me:

Damn you, evil robot!

Ok let me decipher the important parts -- nothing to be ashamed of here. 169 cm, 59.2 kg. The guy said that I was normal, but that I had more fat than ideal... meaning that I should lose another 2.2kg of fat. 2.2kg = 5 POUNDS. Excuse me mister, but I already have a few extra rows of clavicles that I'm trying very hard to cover up... so tell me, where can I drop 5lbs of fat without regressing back into prepubescence?! That kind of pissed me off, not because I think my body is perfect already, but because I genuinely believe that being strong and healthy is the most important thing. He actually said that I shouldn't gain more muscle, but frankly speaking I look like a Tyrannosaurus Rex (spindly arms and robust running legs) and I could really use some upper body balance. I was annoyed and confused. I don't even know if I could recreate the expression on my face from being annonfused, it must have been very special.

After I got home I did some research and found out that he calculated my BMI wrong -- I was told that my BMI was 23 and on the higher-side of normal. But according to the US Department of Health I'm 20.7. Homeboy can't divide. And I'm in MIDDLE of normal. A wonderful boring healthy normal. What now, biatches?

So the overall score that the stupid machine rated my body was a 75. Is that a B-, or is that a C? And apparently if you are lower than 70 then you're in "danger". I'm sure you can imagine the absolute horror that this news would inflict on someone who has been educationally trained for 16 years to accept nothing but perfection. I'm such a tool! Sigh, maybe I should have agreed to go in for this stupid physical assessment, because the logical confident me is completely outraged and the meeker "listens to professionals" side is kind of like "Eep, so I should really NOT have that cupcake?"

What is a girl to do then? 
Run 6 miles, then angrily devour a tapioca dessert, bag of Lays, and an orange afterwards.
FTW!

Oh sweet child of mine...