So, I’m standing in line to get into the gym tonight…wait. What? Oh, that’s right. It is the first workday, the first Monday of the new year. Got it. And I should have known by the condition of the parking lot. It looked like the first day of summer vacation and the pool is open. It did not, however, affect my parking karma.
Have I ever mentioned that I have parking karma? It’s one of my only mad skills. I would guess that 4 out of 5 times, I am not buried deep in a sea of cars. I have parked closer than I have any right to park without a special license plate. Just a little tidbit about me. Not that this all isn’t about me or anything.
Kid care is packed. Locker room is also packed but oddly silent other than radio Lifetime playing at a monster volume. I know. Weird. The hallways are full of managers in full dress: ties and suit coats, heels and blouses. Families in various states of shock and awe and pure fright are trying to keep up and hear over the hip hop and rock. The second floor is asses to elbows. I have never seen anything like it. Or, maybe I have and I forgot about it.
It’s been nearly a year since I started. I can honestly say that I have never held on to a…what is this anyway? A hobby? Not quite. Hobbies are usually pleasurable and don’t tend to leave the hobbyist unable to climb a flight of stairs or roll over in bed. No, it’s not a hobby. A passion? Hardly. I mean, I have moments of passion. Passionate hate. Passionate need to stop. Passionate annoyance at Girl Pirate and her first mate because they never wear a shirt. Hello? Dress code. Or, there should be a dress code if there is not. No, it’s not a passion.
Maybe it’s a challenge. I’ve been working at this challenge for almost a year. Yes. That’s what this is. A challenge. And, much like every fucking thing in my life, it cannot come easily. Oh no. I’m a year into it and, according to my heart rate monitor, 65,000 calories have been burnt so far. I did that. Not all of them were a chore. Sometimes I would wear the monitor just to see what my after burn was and sometimes I would wear it to work to make sure that was allowed a cheeseburger at lunch.
I like seeing this side of one year. I have a ton of perspective without being completely jaded. I would imagine that all the January traffic gets annoying. I wish I knew percentages. Like, who drops off in the first month (and how many more months do they guiltily pay before giving up and canceling)? I was jogging my (almost) mile tonight and enjoying the view. Not enjoying it as much as the time the hot and voluntarily bald guy was running in front of me, true, but who doesn’t enjoy a good people watching position. I came to the conclusion that I might still be the chunkiest girl there but I am far from the least fit. And that feels good.
In addition to working on my jogging, I have this crazy idea that at some point I’ll be able to do a pull up. A full body weight pull up. I have met so many women in the last year who all say that they have no upper body strength. I heard it enough to change myself. I will not ever be a runner. I get that. And even if I start to enjoy it, I will never be fast. My lunges leave much to be desired. I can squat decent but squats can always be deeper and you can always do more so that’s not concrete. No, I’m working on being strong. I’m working on being the strongest girl I know. Or at least the strongest girl at fat camp. At night class fat camp.
That’s right. I’m back to fat camp. Does this make Season 3? I think it does. So, I didn’t graduate when I thought I did. I could go and do the fitness class but Molly doesn’t teach it anymore AND the class goes so late that Ella wouldn’t get to bed until almost 9 on class nights. So, that doesn’t work for our schedule but the deciding factor was Molly. I joked with her that she was forced into it because no other trainer wanted to deal with me and she just said that she wouldn’t give me up to any other trainer. So sweet. I start class next Monday with nutrition classes and everything although the season 1 and 2 nutritionish moved with her new husband so there’s someone new. Fun.
I’ve got a grip on cardio thanks to the heart rate monitor. I’m well on my way to strong (If I weighed about 130, I could pull up my own body weight) (Alas, I do not). I have a positive and endearing trainer who takes no shit from me. I can get 8 hours of sleep. Stress waxes and wanes but is mostly under control.
I believe I know what the problem is. I believe that all the pieces are present except…did you guess?
And just when I learned to make a flawless cheesecake.