The Closet...

Excuse me blog reader.  


For I have not been forthright.


I have a confession, I have been living in the oceanic abyss of my closet.  Not the linen closet but instead entombed behind a closet full of Abercrombie & Fitch jeans, Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses, Zara high heels, Dirtee Hollywood tshirts and JCrew suits is a Cimmerian secret.


I have been suppressing my true feelings.


I am a closet female peruser of Men's Health magazine.  Gasp.  Gasp.  The Horror! 


Let me give you a few minutes to collect yourself.


I admit that I hide behind my husband's subscription.  I may have encouraged (forced) him to order the magazine under his name.


Mark me guilty as charged.  I am the reader.  Every half naked man in the magazine is fitness-in-a-bag and could have been in the movie 300 so CHA-CHING!!  Need I say more other than .. napkin please, the drool..  Are you with me ladies?


I am quite aware that there exists a Women's Health magazine.  I am too crack for that. I mean do they really think those are workouts? Don't get me wrong if I were trying to pick up guys at the gym I would probably do those exercises (pelvic thrusts) as well...but I am not....soo....let me just say that Women's Health does women as much justice as Nike shoes did in the 80's. Not that Nike cared they were selling Air Jordan's by the bushel (to yours truly included!!).  


I have decided to drop the cape and admit .  My most recent pull-out workout from the magazine is enough for me to declare proudly that I READ, indulge, fawn over Men's Health magazine.  I have finally found the most challenging, self-gratifying workout on the face of the planet and therefore I am admitting I was a closet supporter of Men's Health magazine.  





Where did this obsession come from? The euphoric feeling I get everytime I attempt that Drew Brees workout... No wonder he can throw a football out of this stratosphere.

Or on second thought it could be the inquisitive questions I am asked everytime I workout about where I picked it up...and now I confidently scream from the rafters: Men's Health, baby..how do you like them apples?

It's my hotness (insert laughter..or see a previous post where I was likened to Hilary Swank...it must have been after she was bludgeoned in Million Dollar Baby, but I will take the comparison), the point is, I am okay with being the chick reading Men's Health, buying Men's Health, having her name attached to Men's Health. The workouts are fantabulous and the receipes are pretty damn delicious as well...some killer chipotle pork chops!

Out and proud! So kick rocks with your haterade!