I’m all for going from flab to fab. But there is one way I will not achieve a new me in the new year. And that’s by jumping rope.
I am nearly forty years old. I have given birth four times. The only use I have for a jump rope is to strangle the hubs in his sleep. Nothing else.
“Khloé Kardashian Credits This Super Simple Workout for Her Toned Body”
I bet she does. She’s 32. With her cute little bladder all intact. I bet she can sneeze and cough and laugh to her heart’s content as well.
When I see a jump rope I instantly do a kegel. And I’m pretty sure I’m not even doing that exercise correctly. Jump ropes make me nervous. And for good reason.
Last year I joined a gym. I needed to get this bod back in shape for the approaching beach (my backyard pool) season. I really enjoyed all of the exercises this gym provided. But just when I was really feeling good about myself, I was handed a jump rope.
“It works your entire body because it incorporates cardio and arms and abs,” Kardashian wrote on her app. I don’t think people get how hard it is to jump rope for even like 5 minutes straight. It’s great that all it takes is 5 f*cking minutes and you’re drenched. Now that’s an awesome workout!”
Oh I get it. And something tells me we’re not talking about the same type of “drenched”. Unless if by “drenched” she means hot piss literally falling out of your vagina dripping down your legs as your gym partner looks on in horror.
On this particular day my gym partner was a friend. I shall call her “Kathy”. Because that’s her name. “Kathy” is a younger friend who was getting in shape for her upcoming nuptials. A childless friend. A friend who was about to get a lesson about the female anatomy. Like it or not.
Now I haven’t jumped rope in about thirty years. Since I had my Get in Shape Girl rope that had a counter on it. So I didn’t even know what I was in for. Holy Mary Mother of God what was I thinking?
I start jumping and I felt a little peepee drip out. Totally normal. Happens all the time. No bigs.
By about jump ten, the flood gates opened. I wasn’t even sure what was happening. But I paid big money for this class and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to burn every last freaking calorie. So I keep jumping.
Until I saw the look on “Kathy’s” face. The horror. I instantly knew I had made a colossal mistake. I have now just scarred this girl for life as she watched me golden shower myself.
So I bend over and stick my head right up my own crotch to see what all the fuss is about. It was worse than I thought. My shoes were even wet.
I look back at “Kathy” and say, “what? this doesn’t happen to you?” She didn’t need to answer that. It did not happen to her. Ever.
I have now come to terms with the fact that I will never have the toned body of Khloe Kardashian. But only because of the state of my weakened bladder. Not because I eat bread and drink like a boss.