In todayâ€™s spray-tanned, waxed and buffed world, there doesnâ€™t seem to be much room for a short, pasty, white girl with hobbit eyebrows.
And when â€œEntertainment Weekly,â€ â€œHustlerâ€ and Hitler all expect you to be five-foot-seven with blonde hair, blue eyes and butt cheeks of steel, itâ€™s easy to lose hope and stop striving for self-improvement.
Guys have football, weight training and porn to get them into shape and boost their self-esteem.
But what do the talentless, frizzy-haired, Charlotte Bronte-loving girls of the world have?
Pole fitness. Oh yeahhh.
For those of you who donâ€™t regularly read â€œCosmopolitan,â€ pole fitness is a combination of dance, acrobatics and strength training all centered around a stripper pole. Itâ€™s a great workout and a constant reminder that there are career alternatives if college doesnâ€™t work out. Basically the logic is, work it like a stripper and youâ€™ll look like a stripper.
So if you arenâ€™t already taking your clothes off and dancing around on a beer pong table for free shots, donâ€™t worry! I know just the place to give you the skills you need if you ever decide to start.
Pole Fitness: where ladies go to blow off some steam, work on muscle tone and learn how to be sexy.
Now donâ€™t get me wrong â€“â€“ I am no pole virgin.
I was an adamant pole fitness connoisseur back at the University of St. Andrews. Every Tuesday and Thursday night I twirled, I spun, I dangled and then I promptly fell on my face. Explaining to your professor that your black eye is due to A) not a bar fight this time and B) the inverted lotus spin that somehow went awry when you were upside down on a pole, is the perfect way to get a knock-out letter of recommendation for grad school.
I tried again in Alabama at a place called Pole Zone. Now when they told me I wasnâ€™t grinding my â€œlady bitsâ€ adequately during the chair portion, I shouldâ€™ve known they didnâ€™t quite uphold the level of artistry and class I was used to. But it really hit home during the pole portion for the class when they started throwing fake money and chanting at me, â€œGet it white girl. Get it.â€ I was traumatized and swore my firefighter spinning, cradling, upside down crucifix-ing days were over.
But the third timeâ€™s the charm right? Now in retrospect, I see that going to a pole fitness class when the most cardio youâ€™ve done in the past three months is running from the gigantean, uncommonly aggressive squirrels that live on campus (I canâ€™t be the only one who has encountered these terrifying rodents), was probably not the best idea.
And I can also go ahead and guess that eating that large hot dog right before class was also not the most well-thought out thing Iâ€™ve done. But, I survived and left the class very confident in the fact that I needed to discover the Student Recreation Center before I ever went back.
Upon walking into that Rec Center for the first time, I immediately thought: Bravo, CSU rams. You all are a fit group of students. I have never seen so many sweaty, panting, scantily clad individuals in one place doing something that is illegal in 25 states.
And after walking on that treadmill for 15 minutes (five of which I used to try to figure out how to turn it on) I completely understood the high that marathon runners get. I was sweaty. I was exhausted. I was hungry. And leaving after those 15 minutes, I really felt I was achieving my full physical potential.
As I was walking home, I just so happened to pass a circle of beautiful hippie men lounging in the grass. I gave them my most charming smile and they all stared at me as I walked past. I just knew it was the confidence and the sexiness I had recently gained from all that physical activity.
And then I heard one of them say right as I sauntered by, â€œWow. That girl was really sweaty.â€
Yep. Iâ€™d say thatâ€™s the end of my physical activity for the year. Back to running from squirrels.
Just goes to show that no matter how fit, blonde or stripper-like you may be, somebody is still a critic. I guess itâ€™s just better to embrace your hobbit and be yourself.
Awkward times are still ahead my friends. But until we meet againâ€¦Cheers!
Morgan Mayo is a junior natural resource recreation and tourism major. Her column appears on Wednesdays in the Collegian. She can be reached at email@example.com.