What's A Gym?

I guess I missed out on the gay gym bunny gene. I'm not a clueless as Homer Simpson, but gyms and I generally do not mix. To me, going to the gym and working out is a form of torture (my preferred form of exercise is dancing to a good club beat). Nonetheless, the boyfriend has been after me with a relentless campaign to get me to start going to work out with him. His argument is that it will keep us healthier and in better shape. Today I finally succumbed to the arm twisting - previously he bought me workout shoes as a ploy - and I now have a six month YMCA membership that he bought for me to eliminate the excuse that I didn't have the money.

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On the positive side, we were allowed to get a family membership, so at least the local YMCA on the Hampton side of the water is progressive in that regard. Some local YMCA's historically have not allowed gay couples to qualify for a family membership - causing a minor uproar a few years back - and I had wondered whether or not it would be an issue.

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The long and short of it is that I've had my cardio exercise today along with a series of weight machines. Of course, he thinks he's dragging me there again tomorrow. Time will tell on that. Meanwhile, tonight the trade off is that were are going to The Wave to dance after an LGBT Pre-Oscar party at the Granby Theater in Norfolk. I'm going to dance his ass off - he's a good dancer but I've got more endurance on the dance floor.