Working up a sweat
I've joined a gym at the local university. Since it is not free, I am motivated to make it worth the investment. Attired in my addidas outfit (circa 1997), Chris' castoff T Shirts and my head band I head out to the gym early in the morning while its still dark, and no one can see me.
Alas the bright lights of the exercise studio are unforgiving.
Our instructors are college students. All of them are lovely, healthy, beautiful young things who would not know fat if it came up to them and gave a personal introduction. My fellow participants are generally young, lovely and fat free, with the exception of a couple of cellulite familiar more mature women like myself.
Within minutes of warming up I am ready to go home. When I say "ready" I mean I am in so much pain and so exhausted, I am ready to go home. I often wonder during these moments why I thought this fitness thing would give me more energy for my children.
Though I consider myself a rather rhythmic, coordinated person, in these classes I find that I can be something of a shambles! Its amazing what being unable to breathe can do to you.
The most intense class is on Fridays. Boxing classes. Well its a combo for boxing and kick boxing moves I think. I have always wanted to do boxing, but various friends banned me over the years citing that I was too aggressive a personality. Try Pilates instead.We have this little 5 foot powerhouse leading the class. Petite as anything, very girly, but clearly packs a punch. Also if you don't tell her you're warmed up enough, she gives more (agonizing) exercises. The problem is we are all so exhausted from the last set, we can't breathe to tell her we are warmed up enough. She takes this as a "No - give us more, more, more!", and carries on.
Painful though this sounds, this class has been great for my prayer life. I genuinely mean it when I say "Thank You God" when our instructor gives us a nanosecond of a water break. You know its bad (or good depending on your perspective) when you are longing for the abs exercises for some light relief. Though today she kinda tricked us because they were tougher than ever (And will my abs take any notice? Pah...). Anyhows, its a serious act of worship when I say AMEN! at the end of the class. Our instructors are a little pink in the cheeks and glowing with a light spray of perspiration. I am panting and am one huge sweat patch.
Someone once said to me "You sweat a lot for a girl". I never really protested the comment, but often thought it was a little inappropriate to share with a woman.
I get home and Tia says "Mommy wet. Been Swimming?"
Alas the bright lights of the exercise studio are unforgiving.
Our instructors are college students. All of them are lovely, healthy, beautiful young things who would not know fat if it came up to them and gave a personal introduction. My fellow participants are generally young, lovely and fat free, with the exception of a couple of cellulite familiar more mature women like myself.
Within minutes of warming up I am ready to go home. When I say "ready" I mean I am in so much pain and so exhausted, I am ready to go home. I often wonder during these moments why I thought this fitness thing would give me more energy for my children.
Though I consider myself a rather rhythmic, coordinated person, in these classes I find that I can be something of a shambles! Its amazing what being unable to breathe can do to you.
The most intense class is on Fridays. Boxing classes. Well its a combo for boxing and kick boxing moves I think. I have always wanted to do boxing, but various friends banned me over the years citing that I was too aggressive a personality. Try Pilates instead.We have this little 5 foot powerhouse leading the class. Petite as anything, very girly, but clearly packs a punch. Also if you don't tell her you're warmed up enough, she gives more (agonizing) exercises. The problem is we are all so exhausted from the last set, we can't breathe to tell her we are warmed up enough. She takes this as a "No - give us more, more, more!", and carries on.
Painful though this sounds, this class has been great for my prayer life. I genuinely mean it when I say "Thank You God" when our instructor gives us a nanosecond of a water break. You know its bad (or good depending on your perspective) when you are longing for the abs exercises for some light relief. Though today she kinda tricked us because they were tougher than ever (And will my abs take any notice? Pah...). Anyhows, its a serious act of worship when I say AMEN! at the end of the class. Our instructors are a little pink in the cheeks and glowing with a light spray of perspiration. I am panting and am one huge sweat patch.
Someone once said to me "You sweat a lot for a girl". I never really protested the comment, but often thought it was a little inappropriate to share with a woman.
I get home and Tia says "Mommy wet. Been Swimming?"
Labels: Confessions of an Unfit Mom
posted by Jo Saxton @ 1:09 PM
1 Comments:
At 3:13 PM,
Joy French said…
You made me laugh out loud and made my day. Does your coach wear a Madonna-esque mouthpiece?? I think the whole lycra clad business is designed to fill us mouthpiece-less stretch marked mothers with dread and shame, and thus I avoid it like a smear test, but big up to you for stepping out into since a dignity-less world. May your abs reap the benefits. x
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