Hi, I'm Mara. I work out...sometimes. Because nothing tastes better than...abs? No, that just sounds wrong.

This New Year has not brought a change in my habits. And generic New Year’s resolutions like ‘to be happier’ is my everyday approach to life...since October. I wish I’d made a resolution to dish out less ‘that’s what she said’ jokes like I invented it, but it’s too late now. The only resolution I did make – to not use headphones when I’m out and traveling to somewhere – I cast aside after five days of success. What can I say, I like to listen to dub-step and imagine I’m a ‘badass who kicks ass’ and saves everyone in Hunger Games. In that universe ‘there is no Katniss, there is only Mara’. 

But back to the point, I didn’t promise myself to go to gym every day starting from the first of January, and I haven’t. I do work out regularly though - at least three times a week. I have a little routine worked out that I mix up from time to time and I have made friends with the people who work at my local gym. So, by now I feel like I know what I’m doing and my ‘resting bitch face’ ensures that no one approaches me with good intentions to point out what I’m doing wrong (is what I have decided would happen if I suddenly had an approachable expression).  Also, for those who try to look like they have everything under control, let me tell you this – no one is going to help you lift off those heavy weights from the leg press no matter how many passive aggressive looks you hand out for free in the gym carnival. You’re on your own. How’s that bicep working out for you? Do you even lift, bro? 

Excellent 'Google images' skills displayed here.

Anyway, I brought it on myself. I do love going to the gym. Even in January. Because everybody knows that January is every gym-goer’s nemesis. 'Why?', you ask. Well, you probably wouldn’t ask that because it is obvious. But I will tell you anyway. 
From the moment you walk in on the third or more likely fourth of January, you have to be prepared for three things. First of all, no one is getting on the treadmill today. Or tomorrow. I don’t know how the people who have occupied the considerable number of cardio machines got there, but you can forget about it. There are some turkey days to be erased. You can run, but you can’t escape your conscience (is what my sister would probably say). 

Secondly, you can forget about your little preplanned routine. You will take what is given to you. Kettle bells, odd weights of four and six kilograms and a mat with fresh sweat stains on it (because if, like most of us, you have a life – you don’t have your own personal gym mat with you). And you will be grateful. 

Finally, even the most well-meaning person by the end of January will have turned into a dickwad. Because that little thought of ‘run, you sneaky little hobbitses, you will be gone by February – then we will have our precious again’ comes to everyone eventually. And it is poison. 

But... 'they stole it from us’.

Stop it.  

Ranting is so 2014. None of this really matters actually. I am glad that people still try to be healthier. Whether it should be a New Year’s resolution or a genuine change in your attitude towards life, is a different issue. And tomorrow I will go to the gym and put on my weightlifting gloves and maybe not lift any weights, because I’m feeling rebellious or maybe I think it looks cool. Maybe I will do fuck all tomorrow. 

Naaah, I’ll probably go to the gym.