Ok – so I’ve bitten the bullet.
I have joined a gym.
Now before you give me that look, I’m joining a gym so that I don’t hurt my foot. I’m getting desperate to do something with this now-rampantly-flabby body, but I know that I can’t run. So here I am, doing something I swore I would never do – become a human gerbil and working out in a room filled with other well-intentioned human gerbils.
If you knew me, you’d know that I have adamantly avoided gyms all my life – extolling the virtues of simply getting outside – walking, running, doing steps up building staircases – etc. It’s always been my opinion that that is the best and easiest way to be fit.
Today I’m learning that everyone has their reasons and while I need to get active, I also must be aware of my skin graft – it’s only latched for 10 weeks. So, with “suck it up princess” rolling around my brain, I’ve made the decision – THE GYM IT IS.
This is the part when you get to laugh:
I do not look good when I run.. ergo I do not look good when I work out. I do not own trendy running gear; at best I resemble a a short, fat, female version of Rocky Balboa – and quite frankly – on the stationary bike machine the resemblance between myself and Bridget Jones is really quite startling.
So today was day one.
I’m out of breath. I’m flushed (not in a good way) and I have discovered that (being somewhat technically challenged) I need the help of the “attendants” just to get the damn machines working.
But today was day one.
I have already signed up for a race next year.
And here’s the point of this little rant.
It really does just start with a small step. Don’t wait for better weather. Don’t wait for New Years. Head to a gym today, in bad gear, in a bad mood and work out for a bit. Go home – and feel good.
I don’t expect fast and huge results – this is going to take some time. But I am going to try and get this little flabby body into shape.
If you see me – gimme a grin – and here’s to getting fit again, together.