Trying to get the muffin top crumblin', but my tummy keeps rumblin'.

Operation Crumble Muffin Top has begun. And, it sucks. Yesterday, all ice cream was banished from the hizzel.

"Why am I being punished?" skinny non-muffin-top Mike cried in utter anguish.

Because, you refused to switch flavors, mister. If you side with cookies and cream, you're gonna to lose.

Truth be told, Mike isn't being punished. We simply ran out of Edy's before I could hit the store. Besides, Mike is a grown adult, with a wallet, with access to a car and a supermarket. And, he weighs almost twice as much as me. If he truly desires ice cream, I will not be able to stop him. No matter how tough I think I am.

So, in addition to denying myself all things I love, I'm upping the cardio. I hit the gym and got on the "you can do it!" machine this morning. Forgot my headphones so I was stuck just watching the wall of TVs Life Time has blessed its members with. The music channel left me wondering when I got so old. I recognized no singers. Luckily, "Vogue" was on another set. Next to Madonna was The View and right smack dab in front of me was The Rachel Ray Show. Good ol' Rachel. Smiling and cooking and stirring. Cooking and stirring and smiling. My blood started boiling.

Why is someone always creating culinary masterpieces when I'm working out? Do I really need to learn how to bake a fucking cake when I'm huffing and puffing on the elliptical? Watching people cook while I sweat and die is not motivational. It makes me want to run the hell out of the gym, screaming, haul ass to the nearest Dunkin Donuts and eat 600 mother f'in chocolate chip muffins and chase it down with a the grandest of chai lattes.

This isn't Rachel's fault. Cooking is her life. But, Life Time Fitness, you are guilty. Isn't there something else you could show to further my cause? Retelevise every Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh volleyball match. Show bikini-clad women running on beaches. How 'bout some bootleg video of Brangelina having sex? Ab shots of Demi Moore and Cameron Diaz. Hell, just show a picture of Madonna's bicep. I don't care. I'm coming to the gym to be miserable. I need the company of something else besides cake. Otherwise, this muffin top ain't crumblin'.