Valentine's Day never really bothers me as much as it seems to bother alot of single women. Although I have my depresso days about being alone, I like my life and I like my singleness.
So last night I decided I would celebrate the holiday by taking advantage of one of my favorite perks of living single-a schedule that is completely my own. I drove home the long way along PCH, played my music too loud, goofed around for awhile when I got home and then bypassed the chick flick/calorie fest my roommates were having and went to the gym for the hard workout I've been looking forward to for days.
It turns out that the gym can be a soul crushing place on Valentine's Day for even the most confident variety of female. I live in a beach town. In Southern California. My gym is mere blocks from the water. It is ALWAYS full. ALWAYS.
But not on Valentine's Day. Apparently I am the only gym-going female in Huntington Beach who did not have plans last night. Because it was me, two trainers, a desk attendent and about seven weird dudes lifting weights. I think there are more people in there on Christmas Eve. I had my best run since the Half-Marathon because all I could think was, "really? I'm the ONLY one???? I know sometimes I FEEL like I'm the last single girl in America but AM I??"
I hate the gym.