So, we joined a gym. I didn't admit that for a long time. That was a big confession. It seems like an extravagance and it doesn't make sense. WHY would we pay MONEY to DRIVE across town to work out when we have plenty of equipment in this house to keep us sweating 24 hours a day and not repeat a single exercise? Why, I ask?
Turns out that when you pay money, you want to get your money's worth.
That, and the gym is rather like going to a resort. I kid you not. It's clean. It smells nice. The people act like they're happy to see you (even if they aren't, I'm sure, but I can't tell, yet). There's a spa (that I haven't used). There's a cafe (that I have). They sell clothes. And healthy stuff. And they have DAYCARE.
You know why I don't do aerobics at home? Inevitably I'm stepping on someone who suddenly NEEDS to be held even if they were happily playing away in the other room when I started.
Here's the thing: I feel stronger. I feel better. When I hurt, it's a good hurt 99.3% of the time. I DID something. It's good. It's empowering. I went from weenie girl who couldn't hold a downward facing dog to a woman who can go into crow pose. In EIGHT WEEKS. It's fabulous.
Confession two and the reason I'm writing (in an effort to confess ye your sins one to another): We joined the club before they opened their doors. Which meant they had to keep us interested until they did open. Which means they called and had us in for free health assessments and stuff. (I told the guy who called, "What, so you can tell me I'm out of shape? Why do you think we joined the gym? We know this already.") But I went in for my assessment because he told me I had to.
I let people push me around back when I was weenie girl.
The thing is, when I filled out the assessment and talked with the trainer I said things like, "I'm OK with this weight as long as it's muscle."
I didn't think I lied. Really and truly. But she told me that even if I was solid muscle, I would probably lose at least five pounds. Certainly before I put it back on in muscle--if I chose to get that beefy. And I believed her. Who doesn't want to lose five pounds? I'm the heaviest I've ever been (not counting pregnancy and immediately following) so I know that the five pound loss would be feasible.
Really, not the point.
The thing is (I think this time, I'll really get to the thing that is), just before we started going to the gym, I drank all the soda I wanted, all the fatty coffee drinks I wanted, ate all the chips I wanted (which, of course, is the reason for the aforementioned weight increase) . Once we started going to the gym and making our bodies hurt all the time and training myself to RUN in addition to adding flexibility (and nearly passing out in kickboxing), we also gave up soda (for the most part) and all those other fatty things.
So I'm going to make my confession right here and now, and this is the one I've been working up to: If I'm not going to lose weight when I'm exercising more than I have in years and eating healthier than I have in years...tell me why I'm doing this? I have to admit that the drive to not drink Pepsi is fading, and rapidly.
Hubs told me eight weeks ago that we need to quit thinking of it as giving something up, but gaining something better (a healthy lifestyle) which worked really well for eight weeks as HE dropped 13 pounds, but as I've not so much as lost an OUNCE and have even fluxuated up a time or two, well, hmmmm, the Pepsi, she's a callin'.
I'm still digging the exercise part, but the self-denial? I'm gonna have to dig pretty deep on that one.