The pounds can creep up little by little until you wake up one morning and you are… I am not going to say fat, I am going to say… a little overweight. Yes, you look in the mirror and you don’t look quite the same. There is a little more skin under the chin and a little more flab around the belly. And you say to yourself, Julie, it’s time to hit the gym.
The gym is not my thing as you might already tell. (At least it hasn’t been until now.) Because I am implying that I need to go, not need to go more often. I have to join the millions of diehards out there who like, even crave, exercise and fitness. I will attempt to lift those weights, reach them to the sky, tuck that tummy, stretch and flex those legs, and sit up and up and up till I die. I will do my crunches a hundred times and my back kicks a hundred more. I have bought a pair of the best boxing gloves, and I intend to use the punching bags at the gym to fight the weight away. I’ll also do pushups, perform the plank, toss that heavy ball, and jump rope endlessly. I will, in effect, work out.
It’s not so bad, really, unless you are a total, inveterate, died-in-the-wool couch potato, and many of us certainly are. We can watch TV, eat snacks, read books, write a grocery list, and read text messages simultaneously. It is called multi-tasking and it’s a great talent to have. We can even do it at the gym. Who isn’t on their smart phone reading emails while on the tread mill or elliptical. Everyone is! Occasionally, people will talk to other human beings if they can tear their attention away from essentials of their social media life.
So here I come gym. Greet me wholeheartedly and welcome my efforts. I am going to make a go of it and lose weight. I have been reading up, looking at books and illustrations and I think I have it down. If I join and sign a contract, it will force me to follow through and stick with it. Spending money is a big motivator, so is my new outfit from Lululemon, not to mention the great neon-colored shoes. Fashion is part of the experience, n’est-ce-pas?
My neighbor said she once had the cutest trainer and couldn’t concentrate on one thing. She finally had to switch to a new one. This is not what I call a problem. Better to look a handsome face that a geek. She did not get it! I do. Give me an ideal specimen to count my reps any time. Give me looks and brawn.
I am looking forward to my new life of exercise and fitness and the avenues it will open up for me. No more guilt when eating that extra cookie or piece of fudge. No more pangs of regret after the second helping of mashed potatoes. I think this is going to be a good partnership: the gym and me.