When you grow up with a personal trainer in the house (which my mother was), exercise is implemented into your life at an early age. Back in the ’80s, dressed in neon spandex, I trained with the mouse.

Then, when my mother was running the woman’s health center at our local JCC, I would visit her and partake in the free perks of being the boss’s daughter. I’ve been toning these gams since 92′.

When I was in college, stressing about school as I often did (if only I knew then, what I know now), I’d call my mom and she would always say, “why don’t you put your sneakers on and go out for a run?” I took her up on it about 50% of the time, but I must admit, it worked then and it works now; I always feel better about life after a good sweat session.

I interned one summer at Crunch Gym because that meant I could exercise for free there. A free fitness class is second only to a free sample in my book. That was the summer I learned that stripping really was an art. I failed at mastering the sultry look we were instructed to give in Crunch’s Strip Aerobics class; I don’t know how anyone can whip their shirt over their head without giggling. #badstripperproblems

I now am a member, and sometimes blogger, on ClassPass. When I first heard about this company, which offers a monthly membership with access to hundreds of local studios, I was pretty mad at myself for not thinking of the concept first; I would have killed on Shark Tank. I am addicted to trying new classes and somehow I manage to pull myself out of bed at about 5:30AM every morning to fit in some form of cardio or strength training.

I am accustomed to exercise being a built in part of my daily routine. My showers are reserved for after a workout. Showers have to be earned. No sweat, no shower. No good… the few times life gets too hectic to exercise. But, I don’t let that happen very often because after a few days of not exercising, I feel gross. Like, I’m-hideous-look-away gross.

And, I like food. A lot. Remember, I told you in my post “I Am A Bottomless Pit“? I assume exercise is the reason why I don’t look like Slimer from Ghostbusters. I’ve never tested the theory.

Also, I want this cake. Now.

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