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The Stages of Working Out, by Age

Much like our wardobes, friendships, and romantic interests, our workout tastes evolve over time (thankfully, because Tinder and eight-minute abs never really got us anywhere to begin with). Let's take a walk down Metabolic Memory Lane and reminisce about the days when Cap'n Crunch was a main food group (ah, high school), a 10-minute walk towards French fries qualified as grueling workout, and no one really believed in the Freshman 15 (because #mEmOrIes).

Fifteen
Working out? Nah, I don't spend a lot of time working out. Oh, I mean, I run like five miles at lacrosse practice every day but I don't go to the gym or anything.

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Seventeen
Wow, I can't believe Steven asked me to go to his senior prom! The fact that I had my best friend send him consecutive text messages asking who he was bringing to prom is irrelevant because it worked and now he's bringing ME. I guess I should cut down on my after-school trips to the diner this month. But, we have to walk to get there. Walking is exercise. And I could volunteer to split a heaping pile of cheese fries and gravy with my other friends going to the prom. Being healthy isn't so hard.

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Nineteen
Sweet lord, the dining hall is the most glorious place I have ever seen. I can eat Cap'n Crunch, sushi, cheeseburger sliders, and soft service ice cream all at the same time! I'm 100 percent not going to gain the freshman fifteen though, because the gym on campus is absolutely gorgeous and I plan on spending all of my free time there working out.

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Twenty-One
Now that I've finally wrestled that freshman year weight gain back down to a reasonable number, a 30-minute run before class will definitely cancel out all the beer I'm going to drink at the SigmaSomethingOrOther mixer later. But going to the gym means getting out of bed. To stay in bed or to look decent in the neon body con dress I borrowed from Lisa, that is the question. Wait. Didn't Lisa hook up with Mike last night? SCREW LISA, SCREW THE DRESS, AND SCREW THE RUN.

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Twenty-Four
Wow, this is my fifth consecutive day working out before work. Is this the other side? Have I reached...adulthood? Can I still be a grownup if I'm pre-gaming a Harry Potter tour at the Met next week? Baby steps.

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Twenty-Nine
I saw an Instagram of Lo Bosworth wearing Lululemon at Soul Cycle, so I think I'll buy some Lululemon workout clothes and sign up for Soul Cycle! (Nearly) Thirty, flirty and THRIVING. Oh! I'll have to give up groceries and this month's rent money to cover the cost of three Soul Cycle classes. Welp, a run around the park in my Target tank top and shorts it is. #Resourceful > #Trendy

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Thirty-Two
#SweatingForTheWedding! Just because it isn't my wedding doesn't mean that I don't have to sweat for it. I've been through this bridesmaid duty torture enough times to realize that if I'm going to have to wear something I don't like, trust a professional that doesn't know my style or skin type to do my hair and makeup, and parade around in front of hot, (hopefully) single groomsmen, a set of sculpted shoulders and sexy arms are my only salvation.

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Thirty-Four
Now I'm sweating for my own wedding! Except most of the sweating is taking place in my living room, looking over the cost of my wedding, because I'm content with my body and marrying a guy who thinks it's the tits and wouldn't want me to look any different the day we tie the knot. Anyway, why are napkins so expensive? THEY LITERALLY EXIST TO CLEAN UP DIRT.

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Forty-Five
Kids fed? Check. Work deadlines met? Check. Mother-in-law consoled and updated on vacation plans? Check. Wine uncorked? Double check. Workout clothes? Laid out for tomorrow, because today was hectic and life is about balance.

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Sixty-Two
This Zumba class may be full of women half my age, but I'm here to sweat my butt off and look fabulous doing it (not everyone can pull off a sequin headband while exercising, but I like to consider myself the exception, not the rule). Plus, my husband's jaw still drops every time I show him my latest Shakira sashay.

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