During a moment of weakness back in 2007, Mommy was seduced by a sandwich board outside her local fitness club advertising membership fees of $18/month, without any initiation charges or commitments. Of course, later examination of the contract’s fine print would reveal that Mommy had signed her life away for a free t-shirt, but she was willing to overlook the management’s questionable ethics for a chance at scoring the body gracing the club’s promotional flyer. But now that Mommy’s workouts have gone the way of other pre-baby pastimes like surfing selloffvacations.com and eating a meal sitting down, Mommy is toying with the idea of cancelling her gym membership once and for all. She’s been to the gym exactly twice since your birth and the only thing more painful than walking the next day was the realization that each visit cost her $765. Mommy knows that investing that money in her retirement fund could be her ticket to Freedom 55. But she’s also plagued by the fear that throwing in her gym towel could be the gateway to getting a low-maintenance haircut or buying Crocs. Yes, Mommy is exhausted, time-starved and hasn’t picked up an issue of InStyle since her first trip to Motherhood Maternity, but if her annual donation to the gym is the price she needs to pay to keep her quest for rock-hard abs alive, Mommy is silencing her inner Suze Orman and holding on to the dream, dammit!
DRINK: A six pack. Of Red Bull. Another way to not get ripped.