One of Them

Last Saturday night I went out with a bunch of the girls I work out with at my fitness studio. We started out at a bowling alley and were there for about an hour and then we got kicked out. Yep. I'm 37 years old and got kicked out of a bowling alley like some 17 year old punk. One of the girls had called the bowling alley and asked if alcohol was allowed there and since there was a bar, she was told yes. So she made a batch of sangria and brought it in. However, although alcohol from the bar is allowed, outside food and beverage is not, so cops were called, the sangria was confiscated and we were tossed out on the street like common thugs.

I have to admit...it was great.

So, what were a group of women supposed to do at 10:30 on a Saturday night? We ended up at Chili's with giant margaritas and baskets of chips and salsa and queso. (Yeah, I know. Eeeeek. The calories. Whatever.)

So as I'm sitting there laughing my head off, drinking a margarita, and really enjoying these awesome women...these fit, athletic women I've been working out with for over 6 months...I realized something...

I'm one of them.

They didn't know me when I was morbidly obese. I mean, I obviously still have some weight to lose and I'm working on it, but the thing I have in common with these women is fitness.

We text each other before class to make sure we'll be there.

We save each other spots in the front of the class.

We share hair ties and bottles of water and protein bars.

Ain't that some shit? I've been working out often enough that my gym friends are becoming real friends.

My life is different.