Well isn’t life just full of surprises.
There I was chugging away at this little thing called ‘my life' when I found myself saying something completely out of character. Believe me, it has seemed like an eternity since I made this remark. And I did ponder at one point, whether I would ever state this again.
Okay, I had been thinking about something for a while, imagining it, contemplating it, until I decided to act upon it. Particularly as my pitifully small, but never the less appreciated, pay rise would accommodate it.
I’ve joined a gym dear readers, after one day declaring to Mark, “I need to join a gym again.”
I thought my gym days were well and truly behind me. My thought process used to be; when would I have the time and inclination? I work full time, I’m a mum, and I have a little life of my own you know. Who cares if my wobbly bits are wobblier than ever?
Well actually, I care.
I’ve been feeling, how shall I put this, rather yucky recently. My beloved son is now 19 months old and I still haven’t shifted the extra baby weight. I still sigh constantly at my wardrobe and all the outfits I still can’t fit into.
I tried, a bit, to loose weight and improve my fitness levels. I power walked around the park, more than twice. I borrowed father-in-laws exercise bike and grabbed the odd 15 minutes here and there whilst hubby and son were in the bath. But alas, it wasn’t enough.
Then one day, after I’d caught sight of my reflection and cringed (again), work colleague mentioned she’d joined the gym opposite our red brick building. She didn’t have a lot of extra time to visit this gym, so she was exercising in her lunch hour.
I’ll be honest, this thought filled me with horror at first. You go to the gym in your lunch hour? You mean, you don’t surf the web, gossip in the canteen, or visit the delightful shopping parade which is situated a ten minute walk from the office?
But then I kept thinking about it.
I could visit the gym in my lunch hour? What’s more important, surfing, gossiping and shopping, or finally doing something about my chubbiness and poor fitness?
Slowly the thought of a gym membership was becoming more and more attractive. I was imagining the old me, the one who used to take care of her appearance, who did not avoid mirrors and who wore nice clothes.
I’ve never regarded myself as high maintenance, yet I used to bother. Recently I fear I have the appearance of someone who has stopped bothering as they really don’t have the time or desire.
I want to change. I don’t want to be out of breath walking up stairs, or bursting out of my clothes. Or feeling envious towards smaller, younger, female versions.
So I bought pink and grey sports wear to motivate me and joined the gym. Although to be honest, there's nothing like not wishing to waste £45 a month to motivate you.
I go to the gym in my lunch hour. It’s a nice place. I listen to music whilst working out, then I have a quick shower before returning to the office.
And yesterday I found myself saying, “I’m enjoying my trips to the gym. Some days I wish I could stay longer.”
Yes, dear readers, things have really changed around here.
Onwards and upwards! Rather like my sessions on the treadmill.