Now, without further ado, I bring you "How the Wheels Fell Off the Exercise Wagon."
For 20 weeks
last year, through the hottest of hot and the coldest of cold that Northeastern
Ohio has to offer, I schlepped across campus for my exercise class. I put my sedentary body through previously unimaginable
exercises and became a lean, mean exercising machine. I liked it so much that I actually recruited
new members for our class. Granted, at
the beginning it was so I would not be the only person who couldn’t do a proper
push-up, but by the end of the winter semester I was loving how I looked and
felt.
I was sure
that a little thing like a five week break in the class and the Christmas/New
Year’s holiday would not break my stride.
Oliver had taught me all I needed to know to carry on by myself. In the past five weeks I only proved to
myself that I cannot be trusted to my own devices. My warm bed, comfy couch and a hectic holiday
season were my downfall. Who was I
trying to kid? My Kindle full of books
and DVR full of shows was a much bigger draw than planks and weights.
I started
this program because I knew that I needed to take care of myself. Now that I am working in an office instead of
from home, I sit at my desk all day, with the only activity being to walk to
the restroom. Most days I didn’t even
leave for lunch. Something had to be
done. When the university offered a
class designed specifically for couch potatoes, I jumped at the chance.
It started
in the summer. The hot, hot summer. I was in the worst shape of my life and was
embarrassed that I would be the most pathetic participant. I quickly found out that not only was I not pathetic,
but I was firmly in the upper middle of the pack. I gained a little confidence and a few
muscles and made a few friends. I
started to look forward to exercising. For the first time since I had kids I was
taking care of me.
We went all
summer and into the fall without stopping.
That was the key, we didn’t stop.
Fall turned to winter and what I now refer to as THE BREAK. Nobody was watching for me or e-mailing me
when I didn’t go. Nobody cared how many
movements I had on my MOVBAND. There
were no rewards for fighting the good fight.
There were holiday cookies to eat, smut romance novels to read and 27
back episodes of NCIS on my DVR. I had
kids to entertain and laundry to fold.
There was no such thing as lunch time, let alone “me” time.
Monday
starts the new class and I will be back on the straight and narrow. I am looking forward to seeing my old workout
friends and making some new ones. I can’t
wait to tell the new people that it is going to be okay and they are doing a
great thing that is going to change the quality of their lives. I am excited to lose the sluggish cloud that
has followed me for the last five weeks.
In 12 weeks I will once again be
a lean, mean exercising machine. Until
then, you can find me on my couch reading “Orange is the New Black” on my
kindle and binge watching it on Netflix before they release season two!
1 comment:
I think a break is fine every one in awhile. If you didn't take one you might get burned out and NEVER start back up again. You've got to have a sustainable long term plan and if that involves breaks you can look forward to, so be it! I say enjoy the time off and know that you earned it. You'll be back to doing push ups in no time.
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