I hadn’t been to the gym in a while until today. A few weeks ago my body went all “Let’s throw a fit and make Tiffany black out and have chest pain,” so it slowed down my work out flow to say the least. Today I made it back. I’m doing a very amended work out (one hour on the recumbent bike with no resistance- yeah, I know. I’m a beast.), but I’m trying. I figure as long as I’m still trying, Joe isn’t married to a potato, and that’s a positive thing. (I think- I mean the guy really likes potatoes). Since it was my first day back, I decided to record my thoughts- not because they were especially brilliant, but because I knew my crazy, chronic family could relate.
Sitting in the car- I’m not going in. Everyone looks skinny and healthy. Holy moly, that girl is lifting some serious weight. (I am too, but only when I get myself out of the car . . .) Is the whole stinkin town training for a marathon I know nothing about? Do I have any chips in my car? That seems like a better decision at this point.
Walking in the gym- Don’t let the man who works here notice when I scan my check-in card that I haven’t been here in close to a month. Dang it. He totally knows. He said, “It’s nice to see you.” What he’s really saying is, “It’s nice how you drug your lazy self back in here.” (Actually, no. He’s so nice that he would never say such a thing, but the guilt is real.)
Beginning the work out- Where do I start? What is everyone else doing? Oh, yeah, I can’t do that. Abs. I can work on abs. I think somewhere along the way a doctor told me that working on core stability would help my symptoms- or maybe I heard that on an infomercial. Sigh. I have no clue what I’m doing. The ab machine looks least likely to dislocate something, so I’ll do that.
The actual work out- Ouch. Ouch. Should working abs make your lower back feel like it’s going to split open? Is that normal? It’s probably normal. No one else is crying. I’m not going to cry either. Is that a tear? Nope! Just sweat! #killingit A man just asked me if he could work through. What does that even mean? Is he asking if he can work through his problems? I certainly hope he can. Should I offer to pray for him? This gym thing totally confuses me.
I’m moving on to the recumbent bike. It’s totally not made for the under 5 foot crowd, but if I pedal with my tip toes it’ll work. Holy cow. Is that girl still lifting weight? There’s no way she weighs as much as the weight she’s lifting. I must find out her secret. Oh wait, her secret is probably joints that don’t dislocate from simple tasks. Maybe I’ll ask her about that. I won’t. That would break my cardinal rule of gym attendance- don’t speak or make eye contact. They’ll never realize what a hot mess I am if I just don’t speak.
How long have I been on this bike? I’m only pedaling an hour. Darn it. It’s been 6 minutes. Why doesn’t time go by this slowly when I’m drinking coffee and binge watching One Tree Hill? Oh yeah! I can watch OTH while I pedal. No, I can’t. Someone is sitting next to me talking loudly. He’s talking about how nice it would be to be 30 again. Maybe so, dude, but 31 is a struggle right now.
The end! The beautiful end! I made it! I survived an entire hour, and I only stopped once to move a kneecap back into place. (Tricky little booger) I didn’t black out, double over in chest pain, or have any dislocations that I couldn’t handle on my own. YES!!
It can’t be a coincidence that my gym is located next to a Sonic. Time for a milk shake!
Peace, love, and health, friends.