And The Truth Shall Set Me Free

So I'm going to go ahead and just be honest with myself. I think joining the gym was the wrong move for me. I haven't even been a handful of times and yet I can't make myself want to go. I feel fat and out of place. I feel like I needed to do something before starting the gym. Which sounds silly, right?

I am thankful that the husband hasn't said a word but I'm sure n his mind he is wondering what is going on with me and why did I have him waste money joining the gym if I'm suddenly not going to go. I look in the mirror and see a body I don't recognize and I know I need to do something but I don't want to do it at the gym. Where people can see me and judge. Where I'm trying to hide in a corner. Where I am comparing myself to everyone else. Where I feel old and out of place.

So what do I do? How can I get to a place where I am okay with the gym. Or do I give in to my discomfort and make a plan to work out at home? And then rejoin the gym when I've made progress? So many questions and not many answers...

Bringing Sexy Back

Because this is what I want to look like. And currently when I look in the mirror my ab area looks like a deflated beach ball. Actually a deflated kick ball because of my stretch marks and kick balls are usually that red ball with lines all over it. It's not a pretty sight and definitely not a sexy one.  And so I've joined the gym.

But I'm realistic. After two kids, all the gym time in the world is not going to get my abs looking like that. For all the skin that is stretched out and hanging over places it didn't before, only a miracle or surgery can get me looking like that. Or several pairs of Spanx over one another! But still...I've joined the gym.

There was only one time I truly liked working out. That was as a senior in high school. They had opened up a Gold's Gym next to my job and my mother and I joined. The owner or manager was a good looking guy and I think I may have had a tiny crush on him. I was itty bitty thing, hovering at 100 pounds. He could crush me with his bicep. And yet, I went to the gym and liked it. I went to classes, I lifted weights, I ran on the treadmill. I was a regular Denise Austin. I believe I even had a thong leotard I wore. Because let's face it, at 17, I could get away with it.

Now? Now a thong is the last thing I would be caught dead in. And liking the gym? Oh hell no. I go because I need to not because I truly want to. But I know once I start going and realize that even though I don't like to sweat...I will have at least an hour to myself...I will be just fine. That's right folks, the kids will be in the gym's childcare and I can sweat to the oldies via my ipod without anyone whining or crying.

And hopefully in a few months I will have brought sexy back. Just a little bit.