Keeping New Year’s resolutions … or not |

Keeping New Year’s resolutions … or not

Heidi Rice
Post Independent
Glenwood Springs, CO Colorado
Fried Rice

“Well, THAT resolution went right down the toilet,” Husband-Head admitted honestly, as he came in from the mancave. “It lasted all of three days.”

He then proceeded to hurl a can of Diet Mountain Dew unceremoniously into the trash.

“You know, every year you swear you’re going to give up Diet Dew and every year it doesn’t work out,” I said, shaking my head. “What’s up with that?”

Husband-Head shot me a dirty look.

“OK, Little Miss Perfect, how are you doing on your resolutions?” he demanded to know. “And … by the way, why are you dressed like you’re about to be in a 1980s Jane Fonda workout tape?”

I straightened the knit legwarmers over my tights and adjusted my headband.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I sniffed. “I happen to be on my way to the gym to lift weights with my girlfriend. At least I’M keeping my resolution to exercise more.”

Husband-Head looked at me and just laughed. “You don’t know the first thing about lifting weights,” he chuckled. “Remember when I took you to the gym and tried to show you how it all worked several years ago? You absolutely refused to do the machine that works your inner thighs.”

“Yeah, well, nobody should spread their legs that wide in front of a mirror – or in public for that matter – especially so early in the morning,” I said defensively.

The look on Husband-Head’s face clearly begged to differ, but he didn’t say a word. …

But in a way he was right – I didn’t really know what I was doing in a gym. The only reason I was even going on this particular morning was because our yoga and aerobics classes were both on a two week hiatus for the holidays. However, one of the instructors had suggested that instead of sitting on our butts eating fudge over the holidays for two weeks, we take advantage of a deal she’d worked out with a local gym that would allow us to work out for two weeks at the cost of $20.

My girlfriend, Dale, and I thought it was a good idea and immediately signed up.

Granted, it took about five days before we even stepped foot into the place. And when we did, we just kinda looked around at the various machines with blank stares.

“What’re we supposed to do?” I asked Dale.

“I dunno,” she shrugged. “I suppose first we pay the lady.”

After paying and being told that, no, there would be no instruction and that we were on our own, we decided to go into a separate room where the spin bikes were located. Five minutes into the spin bikes we both looked at each other with our eyes glazed over.

“Screw this, let’s do some yoga stretches,” Dale suggested.

I agreed.

We got out some yoga mats and began doing the poses that we could recall from class.

“I just remember the pose where we lay on our mats with our warm blankets covering us and she speaks in a really soothing voice, puts an eye pillow on us and sprays lavender mist and I practically go to sleep,” I informed Dale, as she led us into positions that I’m not even sure were yoga.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Dale agreed sarcastically. “Let’s lie down and take a big ol’ nap and call it good.”

After our alleged yoga stretches, we went out into a big room filled with all kinds of scary weight-lifting devices.

“I wonder what the hell THIS thing does?” I asked Dale as I looked at a machine that slightly resembled that of a guillotine.

We proceeded to bumble along through the different machines – probably not doing any of them right – but in our minds, we were burning calories simply by being in the building. “I want to work on abs,” I informed Dale. “That’s the area I need to focus on.”

Dale led me over to a machine where you were supposed to lie on your stomach and do inverted crunches..

“Ow … ow … ow …,” I said as I followed her instructions, doing the upside down situps. “You know, you would be a really horrible personal trainer. And I swear, if my back hurts so bad tomorrow that I can’t walk, I will sue and own both your car and this gym. …”

“Shut up and stop being such a weenie, Rice,” Dale scolded. “No pain, no wearing that cute bikini you bought to wear in the pool this summer. …”

After bumbling around for an hour in the gym, we decided to call it quits and go home. A couple of days later, Dale picked me up again to go work out.

“So … you really are keeping your resolution and working out at the gym,” Husband-Head said, obviously impressed, when I got home a half hour later.

Guilt, guilt, guilt.

“No,” I admitted, hanging my head. “We went to the drive-thru at Sonic and had a cheeseburger, potato tots and a chocolate shake. …

Heidi Rice is a columnist for the Citizen Telegram and the Post Independent. Her column runs every Thursday in the CT and Friday in the PI. Visit her website at to see more columns or purchase her book collection. Contact Heidi at

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