Off the Deep End
I can't do anything half way. Ask anyone who knows me well. I'm kind of an all or nothing kind of person. I either love something or don't care about it at all. I either commit to a frightening degree or I will avoid, avoid, avoid... About two months ago I decided that I needed to do something to get healthier. I was running up the stairs at work and was winded. Well, that's not good. So, I start trying to figure out what I can do. I stumbled across an ad on my Facebook feed--posted there by a union friend of mine--that a local gym was offering a six week weight loss challenge.
I thought about it. I scoured every inch of the gym's website. Twice. I looked up their classes. Then I looked up what the heck Tabata was because I've never heard of it. I talked to Brian and then I pulled the trigger. So, yeah. That's where I've been these past two months. Oh, and finishing up the school year which anyone knows--8th graders in May? Not pretty.
So, I started boxing. Two times a week a first. Then three boxing classes, one circuit training class and one power stretch class. After the first class I literally limped into the house. No, I'm not being overly dramatic. Ask my husband. I LIMPED into the house. Three days later I hurt, but I gritted my teeth and went back in. And again. And again. Something else about me--I'm stubborn. I had decided that I was going to get into a shape that wasn't circular or die trying. The problem was I was a little afraid it might kill me.
Seven weeks later, the weight loss challenge is over. I did lose weight, not nearly enough and not the miraculous, halo of light inducing amounts I was vainly hoping for, but I did lose weight. I also signed up for the summer session. So, yes, I'm continuing on this "getting in shape" journey. The school year is officially over tomorrow so I'll have more time in the mornings to go to the gym. My daughter's going to love that, I'm sure, but she's gotten used to being dragged along with me, her kindle in hand. I have a new goal by the time school starts up again. There is a number involved, which if I shared with you I'd have to kill you all and I don't want to do that to my lovely readers. The real goal though has more to do with what I gained over these last seven weeks than with what I lost. I lost pounds and inches, but I gained confidence. I learned that I can work harder than I thought I can. I learned to wrap my wrists for boxing and ice my knees afterwards. I learned that I could do twenty flights of stairs in an hour long class. I learned I still hate to run, but I keep putting one foot in front of the other. Someday I will not be the last one back in the door.
Bits and pieces of Patriot (the gym I've been going to) and bits and pieces of Nick, one of the owners, have been working their ways into my newest book. I knew I was going to make my hero go to a gym, have an interesting scene already planned out between him and Asha, but the setting had always been a little vague. I have the setting now. I know what it looks like, I know what it smells like and I know what it feels like. Should be an interesting summer!
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