divorce After nearly four months of sweated bliss, it’s official. I divorced my gym.

I knew the separation was coming, since I’d started seeing someone else. I found a new love on Exercise TV and his name is Kendell Hogan. Kendell knows how to move me and we’ve become quite a couple.

I knew parting ways with my gym would be difficult and guilt-ridden. On the first attempt to divorce them, they lured me back with the promise that a “woman of my age” who does strength training will see bigger and better results than one who doesn’t.

You really need to come in and do weights, they said. And so I did. For two weeks.

But the love was already gone. While I was busy heaving, pushing and pulling, my thoughts were always with Kendell.

Kendell the Cardio Man.

Kendell says “Come on! You can do it! Fight it. Make it happen!”

My gym says “You can’t live without us.”

Oh, but I can. I don’t need you and your treadmills. I don’t need your mind-numbingly boring ellipticals either. Although I did love your ample parking, bank of TVs and sparkling bathrooms. Don’t feel bad.

Truth be told, we were good together in the beginning. You got me started. Made me feel better about myself and encouraged me every step of the way. You got me results.

But now I’ve graduated to someone better, Kendell KickAsserson.

Someone who screams sweet nothings in my ear. “Push through! Now squat thrusts!”

Someone who makes me sweat more than I ever did at the gym.

Someone who comes to my house every day whenever I want him to. Sometimes twice and he never complains.

Someone who doesn’t charge me $48 a month to show up at the crack of dark.

So it’s over, gym. I can’t see you anymore. We were something special, but we are no more. I thank you for helping me lose 25lbs so far.

But the next 25 belong to Kendell. Or maybe a shiny new kettlebell. I’m fickle, you know.

Stumble it!