On becoming a gym rat…

In my quest to actually keep a resolution goal for once in my life, my husband and I started going to the gym this week.

A tiny bit of history…he actually researched the different gyms in our city to find which one would be better “for us”, and eventually settled on one to get a membership to “for us”. He did use his membership a bit in the beginning, and went quite a number of times before he quit. Me? Yeah, I let him drag me along one night to activate my card. You know, so that I could swipe myself into the gym when I wanted to go work out on my own. That was the last time I set foot in that place until this week.

I’m not a fan of working out. Anything that causes me to sweat is not something I particularly enjoy at all. I truly can’t stand the idea of working out in front of people. But something’s got to give here.

Pounds-wise, I’m okay with what I weigh. Sure, my ideal weight is a few pounds lower, and that would be great to get to…but for the last two years, give or take holiday overindulgences, I have held steady at the same weight. I’m not losing, but I’m not gaining either.

Body-wise…I’m not so okay with that. I’m so tired of having so many clothes hanging in my closet that don’t fit right. I don’t go buy more because with my height and my, um, slight plumpness, finding clothes that fit is next to impossible. I feel (and think I look) like a lump these days. I’m far too round. Especially in the, ahem, bottom section.

I actually got brave enough to take some “before” pictures the other day. Gah. I almost gagged when I saw them. As much as I loathe sweating and exercising and hanging out in a gym, I am finally motivated enough to do it after seeing those pictures of myself. (which will remain forever and always for my eyes only…lol)

I guess it bothers me so much because I’ve changed SO much physically. I used to be a skinny size 2. Then I complained because I had no boobs and could never find my size 2 clothes. Ah. Never satisfied, I guess.

So, we started going to the gym Tuesday evening. We’d planned for Monday to be our start date, but I had not yet taken those awful pictures and made up some lame excuse not to go. My husband has suddenly decided as of late that he won’t go anywhere without me. (Maybe that’s a new form of guilt trip…fine, if you don’t go I won’t go, and I’ll just sit here and get fatter and fatter because you won’t go to the gym.) We have now been three nights this week.

Each night, I’ve spent the majority of my time there on the treadmill. I have to walk before I can run, right? The first night, JB set the thing up for me since I had no clue what to do. I felt like a turtle. Eventually, I played around with the settings until I was actually moving. The second night, I did 40 minutes on the treadmill, varying speeds, varying inclines, and then I let JB talk me into trying the ab machine (OMG) and a few other weight machines there. Last night, I didn’t want to go because I’d had an awful afternoon of battling division with my son and a massive headache…but it was the last night of the week the childcare would be open. So I sucked it up and went. I did 25 minutes on the treadmill like the night before…then I pushed the cardio button. For 10 minutes, I let that thing get me to “my target heartrate” by bumping up the incline and speed in increments. At one point, that sucker was on an incline of almost 9 and I felt like if I dared let go of the bar I’d fall off. Oh yeah, I reached that target heartrate alright. I was one hot sweaty mess by the end of that 10 minutes and was all too ready to punch the stop button. I didn’t even bother with the machines after that…just collected the kids and went home.

(a little aside here…it kills me when I’m simply walking on the treadmill, and super chick beside me is running like she’s in a freakin’ race for a half hour.)

So today, Friday…for whatever reason, the gym doesn’t do childcare on Fridays. (nor on Saturday or Sunday, but I understand that one.) Since I’m not yet comfortable enough with being a gym rat to go on my own, tonight’s not a gym night. But I’m on a roll, so I don’t want to just quit…

My dumb self pulled out the 30 Day Shred DVD this morning after dropping the kids off at school. Usually, when I attempt this DVD, I have injured myself in some manner by the end of the first week. I’m feeling good right now (if not just a smidge sore) so we shall see. This weekend, I might just try out the Just Sweat part of the Just Dance 2 game we have and see how that goes…

Probably a lot more fun.

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