Three Kid Circus is running a contest to give away a Wii console and Wii Fit balance board. I REALLY WANT A WII and Batman won't buy me one, so I'm taking up her challenge to write my most embarrassing fitness story.
I've known for years that I needed to get into shape, not so much lose weight as redistribute it, you know? Tone up a bit, be able to walk up more than two flights of stairs without getting winded, go running with Batman without him forcing me to schedule an appointment with a cardiologist afterward. Problem is, I've always HATED exercise. LOATHED it. DREADED it.
In an effort to find a fitness program I'd actually stick with, we have bought a ridiculous number of exercise-at-home gadgets and videos, although not quite as many as this. We've had a treadmill, an exercise bike, weights, Pilates DVDs, Tae Bo videos, a jogging stroller, and jump ropes, and that's just off the top of my head. I'm sure there are a lot more items that ended up in one garage sale or another that I have blocked out of my mind.
Shortly before we left Florida, I started running. Okay, I can't call it running--it was jogging, and not very fast at that. But I did it several times a week, and by the time we bought our house in Texas I was up to three miles, four times a week. Moving messed up my schedule though--I had a longer commute, and was just busier than before--and I fell out of the habit. Until earlier this year, I was barely running once a week.
But recently, I joined a gym. It's right across the street from my office; I go on my lunch hour almost every day, and if I can't go at lunch I go on my way home. There's another one in the same chain near our house, and I go at least once every weekend. Which brings me to the embarrassing part:
I like it.
That's right, after years of whining and procrastinating and complaining, I Like Exercising. I'm enjoying working out. I like the elliptical machine. I like the weight machines. My lovely family gave me an iPod for Mother's Day, and I love listening to it while I sweat for thirty minutes every day. I'm not so wild about the locker room--it always smells vaguely of Nair--but I feel great and strong and fit.
There is one other embarrassing bit. I always see one or more of my coworkers at the gym, usually one of the (male) project managers, and I can tell you there is nothing like having a sweaty, drippy coworker leaning on your machine talking about software requirements while you do leg lifts and hope they can’t see down your shorts . . .