Last week, my neighbor called me and said: "I did a cardio pump class at the gym today, and I thought of you. Maybe you'd like to come to the next one with me? It would be fun to go with a friend".
And it just might be the beginning of a beautiful story.
I went with her last week, somewhat unsure. If we're being truthful here, I was MORE than a little unsure.
I'm no stranger to going to the gym. I used to go ALL the time. Once I began going, I loved it and went regularly for 8 years. I used to go 3-4x a week. And then something happened. That something was called pregnancy... When I was about 5 months pregnant with Mason, I nearly fell off my step in a 'step class'. Suddenly my belly was throwing me off balance. It became kind of dangerous, and the bouncing of all the cardio became uncomfortable. I stopped going, assuming that I'd be back at some point. After all, I had my 'gym shoes, gym clothes, gym membership, and my gym friends'
Mason is going to be 7 years old next week.
I've NEVER made it back to the gym. Not once in all that time, since I was preggo. I didn't miss it. I didn't long for it. In fact the idea of it actually makes wrinkle my nose in total distaste. I haven't even had that good muscle burn (you know the one I'm talking about, where you wake up in the morning, and as you roll out of bed think to yourself, RIGHT, those muscles there...) in years. They were typically the result of a class where your limbs are shaking out of pure exhaustion at the end. I've had other reasons for sore muscles. I've gallantly tried to LOVE running. I've taken not one, not two, but three different "Learn to Run" classes. I have even run in, and completed two actual 10k races. (and not even come in last) But it's no use, I've only solidified that I love to HATE running. I LOVE the running clothes... I love the idea of running. But no, I definitely HATE the running part. I've had sore arms from lugging kids around too long. Or the over-used sore muscles, that are usually acquired by going into supermarket to pick up a FEW things, and you don't grab a cart but instead opt for a basket. Then of course, you proceed to do a weeks worth of shopping, as well as pick up a 4l jug of milk. By the time you reach the parking lot, one arm is noticeably longer than the other (even though you keep switching back and forth) and to top it off, you've parked at the back of the parking lot, for extra exercise of course. I wonder, has anyone else ever put there milk down on the hot asphalt to shake the blood back into their arms?
But as far as having that good, sore, stiff, I actually did something feeling... Well, I have to be honest, I had forgotten all about that.
Until last week. Something shifted and it started with my neighbors phone call. My first trip to the gym in well over 7 years. I dropped 4 year old Madelyn off in child-care. Walked into a step class, and thought "Sweet Mother of Pearl, what on EARTH am I doing..." But I successfully did the class. Caught on pretty quickly. Knew most of the steps the instructor called out. Managed to keep up pretty good (which meant I could leave the class with my dignity). I sweat. I shook. I sweat some more. The class finished with stretching and core work. And the whole time I LOVED IT. ABSOLUTELY wondering why I've never been back.
The next day, was even better. My muscles were sore, the good sore. The one that is associated with a really good work out. I felt great. And I missed it and I loved it. And I'm going back again Wednesday. So who knows, maybe I can get back into the groove. And maybe this ole girl will get into better shape again! It's about time!
In all this time, I've watched Lululemon become super chic and popular, and thought I'll never have a reason to wear that stuff I just can't justify the cost. I'm totally coveting these, and who knows, maybe I'll even be able to get a pair, AND look good in them! Never say never!
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