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You ever feel pressured to be athletic because everyone around you is? I mean, I panic just thinking about joining a pickup game. It's like being drafted into a war you didn't sign up for. "Captain, I just came for the snacks, not the full-court press!" There's always that one friend who insists on dragging you to the gym. They're like fitness evangelists, preaching the gospel of gains. I'm over here praying for a "Fast Metabolism" miracle.
And don't get me started on the gym mirrors. Who thought it was a good idea to put mirrors everywhere? I'm just trying to avoid eye contact with my own reflection as I attempt to lift what feels like two bags of marshmallows.
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You ever notice how some people are just naturally athletic? I mean, I tried playing sports once. I joined a basketball game, and my idea of a layup was just laying down on the court, hoping for the best. I recently decided to hit the gym because apparently, that's what people do. I walk in, and there's this guy lifting weights like he's auditioning for the superhero role. Meanwhile, I'm over there struggling to lift the remote control.
I thought I'd try a spin class. You know, where you're cycling like there's a finish line, and the finish line is a cheeseburger. The instructor was so enthusiastic, screaming, "You can do it!" Meanwhile, my legs were screaming, "No, we can't!"
Seems like the only marathon I'm prepared for is the Netflix marathon. I can sit on the couch for hours without breaking a sweat. Does that count as a sport? I call it competitive relaxation.
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Let's talk about athletic wear. You see people wearing those high-tech, moisture-wicking, aerodynamic outfits. I bought a pair of running shoes once, thinking they'd make me faster. Turns out, they just make me look like I'm running late for something. Have you seen those compression pants? They're like a second skin. I put them on, and suddenly I have the physique of a Greek god. Well, at least until I take them off and return to my true form, the god of procrastination.
I don't understand these fitness trackers either. They're always judging you. "You've only taken 3,000 steps today." Well, excuse me, Mr. Fitbit, I took a thousand steps to the fridge and back. That should count for something!
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I tried joining a recreational sports league once. You know, the kind where people play for fun. Turns out, my definition of fun differs from theirs. I thought we were playing a friendly game of soccer; they thought we were auditioning for the World Cup. I'm not saying I'm bad at sports, but last time I played tennis, I served the ball and hit myself in the back of the head. The opponent didn't even have to move. It was like a self-inflicted knockout.
And let's talk about yoga. The only pose I've mastered is the "Child's Pose" because it looks like I know what I'm doing while actually just taking a nap on the mat.
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