Ouch.
I did it. I finally went to the gym yesterday. I mentioned in my 100 Things post that SD had signed us up at the Y. That was my idea. See, since moving to the great white North (she says as she sits here in shorts looking at a forecast that says the high today will be 80. In October. In Ohio. That's messed up.), I have put on a good 25 pounds. That's 25 in less than four months, folks. That's just not healthy. I blame Ohio. (Not the Dove Ice Cream bars or the Nacho Cheese Doritos) Ohio makes you fat. You heard it here first.
Soooo, after a couple of days of procrastination, in which I went to Target to buy workout clothes (because I couldn't possibly let all of those old people see me in old, ratty sweats), then had to leave them there, because I had no credit cards with me, then being sick Tuesday....I finally bit the bullet and went to the gym yesterday. Put some old Reebok running pants (guess how many times I have run in them) and my sneakers. Dropped Bear off at the "Monty-Sorree" school (his pronunciation) and headed to the good old YMCA. (cue the Village People)
As Bug and I walked toward the doors, two big ol' ducks crossed our path, quacking and chattering like an old married couple. Bug wanted to stay out front and watch them. So did I. BUT we are paying for this now and so in we went.
I dropped him off in the nursery and he was tickled. No separation anxiety for that kid. They take the kids' pictures their first time, and you hang it up when they are there. I noticed that most of the other kids are sitting in their moms' laps looking a little anxious in their photos. Not Bug. There were NEW TOYS there. Wheee! When I went to kiss him goodbye, he gave me that "Oh, you're still here?" look. So off I went.
I stopped at the front desk to ask for directions to the locker room and gym. I could see the pool and the water aerobics class going. It seems that class has an age limit to join. I'm not there yet. The lady at the desk handed me a couple of towels and a key. "You will have locker 227 today." So I head down the long hall toward the locker rooms. I finally see a door that says, "Women's Locker Room. Over 18 only please." I go in and look for my locker.
Only there is no 227. These numbers all start at like 850 and go up. I walked back and forth, trying to crack the code. I have about decided that this is my sign from God (finally) that I don't need to worry about this exercise business, when I hear a voice say, "Are you looking for something?"
I turn to ask where my locker might be. And I see a woman can only assume was one of the water aerobics participants. She has wet hair and is toweling off her naked body. Ohhh! My eyes, my eyes!!! She was just the absolute nicest lady. But her boobs reached down to her knees! (Which, in retrospect is probably a good thing, since they were likely shielding me from things that I can't even imagine without throwing up in the back of my throat a little)
And before you people jump all over me and tell me that my boobs will look like that someday, just stop. Because they will not. My teeny-tiny boobies may disappear altogether some day, but they are not and have never been big enough that they could ever dream of reaching my knees. Not complaining, just clarifying.
So anyway, kindly old nekkid lady informs me that I am in the wrong locker room. The one I want is back down the hall and to the right. So, I gather my composure and head back down the hall. Sure enough, there it is. The other women's locker room. I go in, keeping my eyes to the ground at all times, lest I see any other disturbing images, and I found locker 227. Put my purse and towels in there, lock it up and pin the key to my pants.
Then I find the nautilus equipment. The bike and the treadmill are the only two pieces of equipment in the place that look like I might know how to use them. So I settle for the bike. Just as I am about to sit down, a very sweet (and fully clothed, thank heaven) old man says, "Oh, you're going to take my bike?" He wasn't ugly about it, in fact he was very nice and I told him of course not, I would gladly take the recumbent bike. My back has been hurting anyway.
I had decided that I would bike for about 30 minutes. Hahahahahahaha! About three minutes into the bike ride, I decided that perhaps ten minutes was a good goal. I ended up riding for about eleven minutes, because as I neared ten, I noticed that I was very close to two miles and made that my final goal. Old guy? Still going strong. I suck.
I went and retrieved my towel from the locker, taking care to keep my eyes averted. I went back in to get on a treadmill and guess who was already on one? Yep, old guy. He was clicking along. At least we avoided the awkward "my treadmill" moment. So, I determined that I would walk for 20 minutes. That's nothing, right? Whatever. No hills, no resistance. I made it about ten minutes again. By then old guy had walked to Kansas City and back and was now on the weight machines.
I know my limits people. I wasn't about to tempt fate and injure myself on those weight machines. Old guy - 1, SugarMommy - 0. I'm not proud.
Just as an aside, I hate those mirrors in front of the treadmill. I know my ass is huge. Now I know exactly how much it jiggles. Ew. Maybe they are there for inspiration, but they only served to make me never, ever want to go on the treadmill again.
I went back to the dressing room, splashed some water on my face and looked for the towel receptacle. Not to be found. Now I had to ask where to put the towels. I was afraid. Finally, a (fully clothed) woman told me there was a place in by the whirlpool that I could put the towels in. So I went in there and this creepy Asian guy leers at me. He had been sitting in that damn whirlpool the whole time I was there, reading the newspaper. That can't be healthy.
SD worries that people will be offended by my pointing out that the creepy Asian hot tub guy was Asian. Trust me, there is no racist intent. I just want you all to have an accurate mental picture. Why should I have all the fun?
I go to turn in my key and the lady at the desk says, "Didn't I give you towels?"
I told her where I had put them and was informed (emphatically) that you are to put them in the bin right there at the front. Guess I was supposed to be psychic. I smiled and said "Well, now I'll know for next time."
I picked Bug up from the nursery. He had fun. We went out and watched the ducks some more, then went to Target to buy some decent workout clothes.
Here's a question. Why are all of the pants in the exercise stuff at Target either capris or made for women who are eleven feet tall?? Just wondering. Because for the pants to be short enough, I would need a small. But, come on. Did I mention my big, huge, jiggly ass?
While at Target, I also found some clothes for the kids, a thermos for SugarPlum's lunchbox PLUS a new lunchbox for her. Cinderella on DVD, and toothpaste. Target is not a good place for me to kill time.
No gym today. It really cut into my blogging time. Really, a girl MUST have priorities. That, and it hurts to walk and my sciatic nerve is screaming. Tomorrow, I promise. Unless something comes up.
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