Have you ever decided that you wanted to lose weight? Or you just wanted to get healthier, whatever that elusive term means? And did you ever decide that doing something at home just wasn't good enough and since the insurance company gives you a MAJOR discount to join a gym five minutes from your home, that you should probably do that?
If voices in your head ever suggest that to you, run far, far away!!
The Prince and I have been going to the gym since last Thursday. And I can honestly say I don't enjoy it. I know what you're thinking: "But JulieMom, it hasn't even been a week yet! Don't give up so easily! You'll learn to love it, and you'll be craving it if you ever have to skip for some reason."
You obviously do not know me at all dear Reader.
The first humiliating thing you have to do when joining this gym is to use the 'Show Me Just How Out of Shape I AM' machine. What does it do? Well, it tells you your weight. (In kilos so it doesn't seem so bad.) Then it measures your body fat, cholesterol, diabetic rate, blood pressure, and resting heart rate. Whoo-hoo. Nothing like electronic confirmation that you're fat and out of shape. Then your "trainer" will give you a customized workout based on your goals.
For instance: "You want to lose fifty pounds in two weeks? You got it! Drink nothing but water and consume nothing but Ex-Laxx. Then make sure you come to gym and use all the machines for two hours a piece at your hardest level. It may kill you, but they could bury you in an ironing board box."
So, as of right now we are working on getting our cardio levels back into shape. I say back like mine was ever in shape to begin with. (I know it's a bit misleading- I apologize.) So we bike for ten minutes, then walk/run for ten minutes on the treadmill, then the Devil's Stair Machine for ten minutes, then rowing for ten minutes, and finally we finish up on the bike again. I would like to say I've already lost weight and that I wake up every morning with bright eyes and a clear mind.
But that would be a bold-faced lie.
The fact is that I am still the same size, my mind is the same forgetful-Mommy brain it's always been, and I have yet to feel the kind of love for the machines at the gym that I feel for my warm snuggy bed. When will all this change?
Probably never. The sad fact is that I am a sports girl. I would rather spend a few hours running up and down a basketball court, or playing softball, or volleyball, or even ping-pong for crying out loud. Something that has a point to it: trying to win.
At the gym I am pitted against electrical machines that never tire. The harder I push the harder they laugh and shove the futility in my face. Never mind the fact that there are TONS of skinny women in spandex around who make me uncomfortable. I had a master plan not to join the gym until I was already thin. But that didn't work out, because I couldn't send the Prince to face the spandex ladies alone, now could I?
However, I now have another master plan. I will go to the gym and pretend to like it. I will smile with the Prince as he sweats and I try hard not to. I will do it because it is good for me. And it is good for my kids to see us work out and take steps to be healthier.
And because we've already paid for it.