I’m Not Skilled Like Batman

There are some things I’m not afraid to try. New foods, skinny jeans, and red lipstick, to name a few. These things don’t bite, they aren’t fatal unless the skinny jeans are just way too small, and they aren’t going to keeping me from moving on in my mundane day.

But then there are some things I most certainly will not try. Pole dancing, flying a plane, and using an exercise ball in public are at the top of the list. These things are physically and emotionally painful, and the mere thought of attempting one of these tasks makes my body cripple into a paralyzing state that does not wear off for days.
And to you, oh women who use the exercise ball and swear by its power, trust me when I say you are wrong. I’ve watched you at the gym, you on your round ball and me repeating my “left foot, right foot” mantra on the treadmill. You think you have it figured out. You think you’re just sitting on a round ball and just repeating exercises and just balancing positions and just getting through your workout so you can buy expensive things for your expensive houses.
But you’re not. You’re performing a skill that only black belts and Batman can perform. (I’m friends with Robin; he tells me about their workouts.) You’re high on the list of the world’s most talented people.
And you make me hate myself. For every time I fall off my exercise ball, banging my limbs on my desk and dresser and bed, I realize that I will never be like you. I will never master the control necessary to achieve rock solid abs and perfectly toned thighs by using an exercise ball. Especially if I am eating cookies and drinking chocolate milk while sitting on it.
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