Recently I received a text from my fashionista friend M’e. She needs to get into better shape before her reconstructive surgery, but she puts it, “It’s not going very well.” She asked it I would be her fitness buddy.
My initial thought was “Did she send this text to the wrong person?”
M’e not only uses a gym and various fitness apps daily, but she and her mister plan excursions around hiking and biking. Although I’m not a couch potato, I think it’s crazy to drive somewhere to work up a sweat for an hour – let alone paying each month for that privilege. I outright reject fads (e.g. work-outs done in high heels) sold as a way to “get in shape quickly.”
However, she wasn’t asking me because I’m ready for boot camp. She’s got plenty of pals and colleagues who can match her speed and read labels when she grocery-shops. In fact, there’s no way I can be the person who works out with her; we live more than 100 miles apart.
But she really did ask me. She can hire a personal trainer, but she can’t hire a friend who knows her well enough to be her cheerleader, her crying-towel, and her personal assistant. (And vice versa!)
This weekend we’re meeting in person so she can show me the apps she uses and I can check out the “lifestyle program” she suggested.