If there is a word stronger than hate, I would use it times 100 to describe just how strongly I feel about working out.
I have always admired those women running along the jogging trails and on treadmills … they look so determined, so focused. I have always secretly longed to be one of those self-assured, toned chicas who exude strength and an air of crave worthy health and wellness.
But that’s where it has always ended. At longing.
I’m a total wiener when it comes to physical exertion. In high school I always stopped running (or jumping or swinging or whatever the hell the day’s torture was) during tennis training whenever the coach popped out of sight. A couple of weeks ago I forced myself to lug my behemoth butt up the four flights of stairs at work and the fact that I nearly died thwarted any future repetitions.
That said, the fact that I have managed to make it to the gym four days out of the past six is, in a word, AMAZING!
I’ve been sweating like a crazy person for 20 minutes on the treadmill, cringing through 10 minutes on the weights and aching through stretching and ab work at night. It doesn’t sound like much, but essentially hauling around two people on the frame of one is well, exhausting!
I only hope to improve. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll be the one who looks like workout Barbie trotting alongside the roadway.
Um, or not. But workout Barbie’s less-determined plumpy sister is probably doable. =)
p.s. Some crazy dude bedecked in plaid golf shorts and Vans was bogarting the arm weights today so I bailed, only to find a more suitable — and adorable — option. Cooper, all 18-plus pounds of him, is perfect for working out the biceps. And his giggles of delight inspire me to keep going. Well, that is of course until his string of drool finds its way to my forehead — niiiiice!
I have always admired those women running along the jogging trails and on treadmills … they look so determined, so focused. I have always secretly longed to be one of those self-assured, toned chicas who exude strength and an air of crave worthy health and wellness.
But that’s where it has always ended. At longing.
I’m a total wiener when it comes to physical exertion. In high school I always stopped running (or jumping or swinging or whatever the hell the day’s torture was) during tennis training whenever the coach popped out of sight. A couple of weeks ago I forced myself to lug my behemoth butt up the four flights of stairs at work and the fact that I nearly died thwarted any future repetitions.
That said, the fact that I have managed to make it to the gym four days out of the past six is, in a word, AMAZING!
I’ve been sweating like a crazy person for 20 minutes on the treadmill, cringing through 10 minutes on the weights and aching through stretching and ab work at night. It doesn’t sound like much, but essentially hauling around two people on the frame of one is well, exhausting!
I only hope to improve. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll be the one who looks like workout Barbie trotting alongside the roadway.
Um, or not. But workout Barbie’s less-determined plumpy sister is probably doable. =)
p.s. Some crazy dude bedecked in plaid golf shorts and Vans was bogarting the arm weights today so I bailed, only to find a more suitable — and adorable — option. Cooper, all 18-plus pounds of him, is perfect for working out the biceps. And his giggles of delight inspire me to keep going. Well, that is of course until his string of drool finds its way to my forehead — niiiiice!
1 comment:
I just realized I left my comment all the way down on your first post...Just thought I would let ya know LOL
Shelly
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