I joined a gym yesterday. That's right, I am going to be a gym rat. My friend K and I visited our local
gym and liked what we saw. Plus, they gave us the teacher discount even though we are still students. Hey, we WILL be teachers in a year and a half. Plus their hours are awesome. They open about an before and close about an hour later than all the other gyms here, and they have free child care. They have a crapload of free classes-Zumba, pilates, yoga, yogalates, step, spinning, so on. Best of all, they are only 1.9 miles from my house. I no longer have any excuses.
Today I got up and put that Christmas crockpot to use. I tossed in some chicken and roasted garlic pasta sauce. When it's done, I'll toss some feta in and serve it over couscous or pasta and put some
Mediterranean veggies on the side.
Then I dressed Squirrel and headed for the gym. K and I had a fitness evaluation at 10. We got weighed and measured and put through the paces by our cute, yet strangely sadistic trainer Antony. That's AnTONY, not AnTHONY. Get it right.
Antony first humbled us with his evil scale. By evil I mean it told how much I really weigh, not how much my drivers license says I weigh. A pox up on that scale. Then he measured all the parts of me that have "cute" nicknames: badonkadonk, muffin top, and wings. All those special parts. Then Antony had the nerve to-brace yourself for this one-write this information down. WTF? He says it's for posterity.
Next, Antony led us to the chamber of horrors. They call it the "Weight Training" area. I c
all it the seventh circle of Hell. The first thing he subjected us to was this device that was obviously designed to kill. It consisted of a little bench that you laid on and this slab of metal that you had to press up with your feet. I am absolutely certain that if failed to press it up sufficiently, I would be smashed flat. What better motivation to to complete one more rep than your immediate demise otherwise.
Moving along, we did squats. More like squeals....of pain! Because that's what my thigh muscles were doing. Squealing from the pain.
Next me moved up to our abdominals. We did sit ups but not normal sit ups. These were special sit ups. We did them on an exercise ball. Yay. Fun. Whee. It was at this point that the meatheads started working out behind us. They held a distracting conversation about some chick who had "the face of a Dallas cheerleader." I tried to focus, and luckily, just trying not to topple off the ball. By the time I completed my reps, they were gone. Plus, cutie Antony was supporting my back to make sure I didn't maim myself.
Next, we did something like sit ups, but it was done on another medieval torture device. In addition to lifting my upper body, this contraption had some sort of weight that we had to lift simultaneously.
By then, our free session was about done. Antony tried to escape us, but he made the mistake of asking if we had any other questions. Heck yeah we had more questions. He'd addressed some of the cute parts, but not those wings I have hanging from my upper arms. He directed us to the tricep press. It was definitely my favorite. It'd didn't frighten me or cause me pain.
K and I roamed about the gym for a while, considered getting on some cardio machines, which we decided no to as our legs and thigh muscles were so shaky we could barely stand and instead headed to the smoothie bar. There I got a smoothie and we chatted with Christie, the first vegan I have ever met in real life-though she does indulge in sushi from time to time. She gave us a lot of info so we headed to Publix to get our own smoothie ingredients. I even got organic stuff.
All jests aside, I had a wonderful time at the gym. I feel really good. Even though I hurt, it's a good kind of hurt. It's meaningful. I am doing something good for me and for my kids. I'll keep ya posted on the results.
While you are online, please head on over to
Andrea's Classy Closet and vote for Renee @
Cutie Booty Cakes for the co-host! Thanks a ton!
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