Thursday, February 2, 2012

Dear Health Club, It's not you, it's me

Dear Health Club,

Over the years, we have had some pretty special times together. Remember when someone broke into my locker and stole my credit cards and bought a hundred dollars worth of beer at the gas station around the corner? Or that other time someone broke the lock off my locker and we found my car keys in the garbage can outside your door? How about that fungus you gave me after walking in the shower without sandals? Hysterical! Oh man, we had great times. Whooo!

But look, as great as we were, I think we are growing apart. You are all, "new singles spin class at 1pm, and members social Friday night", but I'm all like, "the kids nap at 1pm and Friday's are pizza night". You smell like eucalyptus and I smell like peanut butter and jelly. You want to train me to run a marathon, and I'm living a marathon. Don't get me wrong, your 10 x 10 kids room was convenient, even if a little over priced for just putting in a DVD of Finding Nemo.

Anyway, I'm seeing another health club. Yes, they are a little more expensive, but we see each other more regularly and they love the kids. They have 3 play rooms, climbing walls, tennis lessons, a playground, swimming lessons, baseball and basketball camp, and the kids get their own swimming pool. They have a restaurant (you know how I like to eat) with beer and a kids menu. They even have a kids dinning room with Nick on flat screens. See, I can't just think about me anymore. I'm a dad now and I want the kids to have fun too! This new health club understands that and embraces it. I can work out while the kids play and take lessons. Then we can play in the pool together, or shoot some hoops, and finish the morning eating lunch together. You never really liked the mess the kids made in your organic juice bar and your protein bars aren't peanut free.

I know you will find someone else. Your "no initiation" sign up is sure to get you another pre-dad. Someone that shows up to all your social events... someone who can afford a personal trainer... someone who buys those tight stretchy shirts from the pro shop.... someone who actually likes wheat grass smoothies. I'm just not that person anymore—I wonder if I ever was.

So look. I need you to stop sending me emails and calling me. I know you think you want me back. I just don't think you have the space for me and my family. So please, take me off your list. It's not about the initiation fee or the free health assessment or the half off Pilates. My needs are different now. I'm different now. It's just time we go our separate ways. 

Stunt Ben

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