I dumped Scott for Cody.

I know many of you have been reading my blog for years now.

You’re probably not shocked at the title “I dumped Scott for Cody” because you know I’m scheming you with my words.

You are correct. The title is not what it appears.

Cody is a girl.

I dumped Scott for Cody. The statement is still true.

No, I’m not a lesbian. 

I dumped my old workout partner – Scott – for a new workout partner – Cody.

I do not sugar coat blog posts. We’re all friends here and by friends, I mean real friends. Not some Facebook friend that has OMG. Best. Husband. Ever. Or an Instagram friend with smiling kids at the park, because it’s a good day with good friends! Friends also don’t let friends post videos of feet climbing a stair stepper. We get it. You’re working out.

I mean, it’s totally cool if you scrapbook your life on social media. You’re proud. We all are.

But I don’t scrapbook.

I’m a storyteller. If my husband gives me a present for no reason – he did something awful and he feels guilty. If I go to the park with my kids and friends – you won’t know about it unless something monumental happened, like the time 4-year-old Emma dropped her pants, squatted, and peed in the splash park. And as far as working out – again, you won’t know about it unless I dump Scott for Cody.

Fitness is not new to me. I’ve had a gym card since college and I use it a lot. I’ve worked out with Scott at a gym for the past 15 years. I’ve trained like an elk hunter. I’ve trained for a 5K with my friend, Heather. My new neighbors dragged me to a mud race.

I’m not athletic. I never played sports. I guess the only reason I’ve worked out for so many years is habit. And I train my body to handle something specific – reeling in a marlin, skiing in the mountains, running a 5K or a mud race. As Scott’s wife, my lifestyle is an active one.

Cody is drowning me facedown in my own puddle of boob sweat at Fusion.


There are three locations in the area but one concept – you sign up for a class at any of the locations. You show up, take the hour-long class taught by an instructor, and you leave. It’s not an open gym; it’s classes only. And if you miss the class you signed up for, you’re charged. This forces you to not be a quitter. This is good for me because I have no problem quitting free of charge.

And now I can’t quit. I’m a hostage.

That came out wrong. Let me try that again – I dread walking into the building.

Fusion’s tagline is “shock your body.” It’s printed on the door and it makes me feel like I’m going to get electrocuted if I touch the door handle. But that’s ridiculous. Electrocution.

They shock your body during class instead.

Things I’ve learned the past few weeks at Fusion:

  1. I’m the stumbling baby giraffe everyone watched on the Internet and I swear everyone is watching me. Not only am I tall and lanky but I can’t tell my left side from my right side. The mirror confuses me. Cody reminded me that everyone is lost when they first start Fusion. She gave me helpful words of encouragement like “find a spot so you can shadow the instructor” and “your days of not washing your hair are gone” and “don’t bring a tiny washcloth as your sweat rag. You might need a beach towel at first.”
  2. Barre is not pronounced “bear” as in “the bear is trying to kill me.” It’s pronounced “bar” as in “the workout is on the ballerina bar” or “I swear to God, if I make it out alive, I’m going straight to the bar after this.” Ballerinas make me cry.
  3. Cardio Sweat Lab should be called Class Swamp Ass. I asked Google if excessive sweating is a health condition. Google said I might die. I apply deodorant on my crotch now. I say this like I’m joking but, in fact, I am not.
  4. Bikini Boot Camp is not taught in bikinis. So don’t ask, guys. Bikini Boot Camp refers to kicks, jabs, jumps, and uppercuts for the next time you ask if this class is taught in bikinis.
  5. I don’t understand why we have eyebrows anymore. The sweat, you guys. The sweat. Isn’t the point of eyebrows to stop sweat from dripping and burning saltwater into your eyes? I peel off my workout clothes when I get home because they’re stuck to my skin. And then I go straight to the shower because Cody brought me to a new level of boob sweat Scott has never given me. I’m still not a lesbian.
  6. The burpees at Fusion make me see the Devil himself. Did you know burpees are a workout developed by Satan? It’s true. I saw him. Here’s what you do: Stand, drop to a squat, jump your feet back to a plank position, jump your feet to a squat again, and jump up to a standing position. Repeat. The stars come out and meet my friend, Lucifer.
  7. Everyone at Fusion has favorite instructors. I haven’t found my favorites. Each one has a special way of making me wring my sweaty hair all over my mat at the end of class. I’ve determined Satan must be a woman with a rocking six-pack body.
  8. No one will call you out if you show up with your workout pants inside out. I had two choices once I realized what my dumbass did: 1. Grab the instructor’s microphone and announce that I know my pants are inside out, please don’t judge me. Or 2. Text Cody what I did and tell her I must walk out of the building backwards, reading “Shock your body” as the door closes in front of me. I went with option 2.

I don’t sugar coat my blog posts. Fusion takes me through a workout I’ve never experienced before. When I’m done with a class, I get in the car and sign up for another one.

Because I dumped Scott for Cody.



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And don’t forget to buy my book, “But Did You Die?”

Monday’s at 4:30…

….you can bet I’m at the gym. I’m in the”Strictly Strength” class.

The class is good but what makes me tell everyone about the class is the instructor.

This instructor is HILARIOUS. Maybe I’m not making myself clear – she’s so funny that I actually laugh during my workout, sometimes I smile if I can’t laugh because of the amount of weights I’m working with.

She has a raspy voice. She’s loud. She’s clear. She laughs at her own jokes. I want to be her friend.

Lines of hers that I have remembered –

(Week of Thanksgiving) Lunges: “Let’s turn that fatty dark turkey meat into some WHITE MEAT! Let’s go! Gimme 8 more. Down. Up. There ain’t gunna be no DARK MEAT in this house. LEAN MEAT ONLY! You can show off to that turkey on TURKEY. DAY! Say, look at this white meat, Mr. Turkey. Are you jealous of  THAT. Boom. Keep going…

Bicep curls: Pick up those lighter weights! Oh! It’s a baby! Pick up that newborn baby! 1! 2!3!4! Keep going! All left arm! All right arm! Now, put down those weights and pick up those heavy weights. You just got yourself a toddler! Baby is growin’ up! This is mother nature at WORK! Pick up that toddler! 1!2!3!4!

(Day after Christmas, only 10 people showed up): Oh, you brave souls! My angels, you gunna hang with me the day after Christmas?! You all had EGG NOG, didn’t you?! Look me in the eye and say you didn’t have egg nog! I KNEW IT! I’m gunna help you just say no to some EGG! NOG!

(Day after Christmas): This is the day! The day…you can’t…have anymore…of those COOKIES! Santa’s over! He ate all his cookies! No more cookies, you Santas! Done! Over! You’re under my wing now!

(First class of 2012) Plank: Where have some of you been! Momma was worried about you! I’m gunna make you work EXTRA hard for all that RED BULL you drank over New Years! Oh, yes Ma’am! Hold that plank for one minute! It’s Monday! Lookin’ 20-12 in. the. face!

Butt kickbacks: Oh, Mr. Time! Here you are again. We survived 20-11 and we’re going take down 20-12 too. Mr. Time ain’t gunna take anything from us! Nooo, no! My angels. I won’t let it HAPPEN! We gunna come out of 20-12 looking like Mr. TIME didn’t touch us! No, sir!

On backs, inner thighs: Oh, my favorite! Everyone forgets about the inner thighs. When someone asks what part of the leg you worked out, people say ‘calves, hamstring, quads, maybe even some butt…but no one remembers to do the inner thighs! I’m gunna wake that up forgotten mess down there! GO! Singles! Now pulse it! Lemme tell you a story..it was a dream of mine a few years ago. Keep going…1…2…3…4! Don’t stop! In my dream, Oprah came up to me. Gayle too, Gayle was there with her. Now pulse for 8! Good! Now slow for 2! And Oprah told me, ‘Jodie! It’s very important for you to understand this. You got to do something for me. And I said ‘what is it, Oprah? Oprah said to me, ‘you need to spread the word: EVERYONE MUST WORK ON INNER THIGH! Did you HEAR that?? Straight from Oprah’s mouth! INNER THIGH! Keep going!

Triceps and shoulder flys on back: Come on my little Michelangelos! Sculpt those arms like the STATUE. OF. DAVID! You’re carvers! You’re my ANGELS! (She’s an art teacher during the day)

Butt kickbacks: OhhhhOHHHHH!! Someone. Someone just tossed another log into the fire! You better push those legs up higher!

Warmup, a Brittany Spears song comes on: Oh Britney. Damn her. I tried to get rid of her in 20-11. But she’s still hangin’ on. We’ll hope she stops singing this year.

Frontal shoulder raises: Pick up that grocery sack! Pick it up! Up! Groceries got to be put on the table! Keep going!

This woman is absolutely out of control. These lines are so much funnier when she says them. I’m not sure they’ll come across hilarious when written down. I tried to capture her voice though. She has to think of her jokes beforehand. Today, she even said “I thought of that one yesterday”. I have been to many gyms and have taken many classes. I have never had a teacher quite like her. I’m glad she teaches this class on a Monday. It’s exactly what I need to start the week. I’m looking forward to her class during the summer. I can only imagine the bikini and tank top jokes she’ll throw at us.