dylansmom's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- working out I went to the gym today. It was my first time back after missing a week and a half because I had a cold, AGAIN--4th one in 2 months. Welcome to motherhood, I guess. (although, strangely, Dylan's only had 2 colds in that time, and while I'm grateful for his sake, HELLO?? Not fair!) Anyway, I had a chance to appreciate anew all the little quirks that a gym provides: - the inevitable Strong Man wanna-be, who lifts weights that are apparently too heavy for him in his quest to build a contest-winning physique. His grunts & strains as he lifts remind me of my first post-partum BM (except I was also crying and screaming). Someday that dude's gonna have a heart attack, but at least then I wouldn't have to listen to him anymore. - the weight machine hog. You know the type--for some reason, this person's doing 50 million sets of different exercises on one machine, and they seem to feel entitled to stay at that machine until they're done even when there's a line of 5 people waiting to squeeze in their 2 sets so they can shower and go home. There are signs all over the gym saying you should let others work in between your sets, but this person apparently doesn't read those notices, or care. Bastard. - the insufficient shower curtains. The ones where apparently whoever ordered them forgot the rule about getting curtains 2-3 times wider than the opening so that they're wide enough after the drape effect. Instead, when you pull the curtain closed, you either get small gaps on either side, or one big gap on one side. Hey, I know we're all girls in the women's locker room, but that doesn't mean I want my boobs or butt (or both) exposed to everyone. I had enough of that when my son was born. Not to mention that I'm at the gym precisely because I'm ashamed of my body at the moment. But at least I went to the gym. The hardest part for me is always the physical act of getting out of my office chair, grabbing my gym bag and leaving the building. Once I get that far, I'm committed, and by the time I'm on the elliptical machine, I'm happy to be there. I am SO not the fitness-seeking type, so I'm grateful that I'm at least halfway following through on this exercise thing. Maybe there's hope yet that I'll shed some of these pregnancy (and, let's face it, PRE-pregnancy!) pounds. Without giving up my God-given right to chocolate cake, that is. 1:50 p.m. - 2005-11-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||