So I joined a gym (aka Return of the Fitness Queen…MAYBE!)

I KNOW.  I never thought I’d see the day either.  But a new gym opened literally BLOCKS from my home.  They gave me a discount for joining with my fiance.  What else am I supposed to do?

My ever-growing pile of workout dvds and my Wii Fit workouts…it just ain’t cuttin’ it anymore.  I’m not making the progress that I want to.  And part of the problem is that I still like to go out several nights per week and get my singin’ on (okay, and my Coors Light drinkin’ on, whatever).   And as much as I’ve tried to improve my diet…I’m no saint.

But in the never ending battle of “Eat Less, Move More” — it’s the moving more (or moving at all, really) that’s more of a problem for me than the eating less.  Sure, I can be a chowhound with the best of them, but if I’m not doing enough to counteract that…well, then I’ve got myself a problem, don’t I?

I already had one friend who had joined this gym down the street.  Eric headed over to check it out, get more info, and later that day, I signed us both up.  Another friend of mine also joined.  So with renewed purpose, I headed to Boulevard Fitness

…and I rediscovered my love for the eliptical machine.   It’s been almost 10 years since I’ve been a member of a gym.  But man, I loved that machine back in the day.  Being able to get a cardio workout and burn calories without jarring my joints and fucking up my knees and ankles (jeez, I sound like I’m 112 years old) is kinda freakin’ awesome.

The love for the eliptical clearly hasn’t died.

Normally, I hate working out.  I hate getting sweaty.  I hate physical exertion.

But at the gym, I kinda like it.  Maybe it’s the fact that I’m engaging in sweaty, physical exertion with other people.

(That sounds bad, doesn’t it.  Maybe I should clarify.)

At the gym, (ideally) the main purpose is to work out.  Get buff, pump iron, burn fat – whatever.  It shouldn’t be a fashion show, it shouldn’t be people primping and preening.  And at the gym that I’ve joined, I don’t feel intimidated at all.  I’m learning how to use the various machines.  I’m challenging myself.  And so are the rest of the people there.  I feel like we’ve all got a common purpose.

Maybe that sounds dumb.  But hey, it’s motivating me, so I’m riding that wave for as long as I can.

At least a year.  Hell, the membership’s paid for.

I’ve had some health concerns this year (mainly high blood pressure – which is appearing, so far, to be more stress-related than health-related); I’m getting older and all that crap.  But I am not doing this shit to be able to run faster (HA!) or be stronger.  No.  I want to look GOOD.  And if I don’t feel like I look good right now, then it’s up to ME to change it.  I’m sick of being too jiggly here and too dimply there.

As much as part of me thinks, Fuck it – Eat the meat, chew the fat – I should just live and enjoy my life, there’s another part of me that is not really happy being complacent like that.  Most of my life is GOOD right now.  I’m pretty much a happy camper.  But you can bet your ass that I was happier with ME about 50-60 pounds ago.  That’s not everyone’s truth, but that is BONAFIDE MUTHAFUCKIN’ FACT for ME, jack.

So I’m making yet another attempt to do what I’ve gotta do.

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About meredithelaine

thirty-something. karaoke diva. just trying to get by.
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2 Responses to So I joined a gym (aka Return of the Fitness Queen…MAYBE!)

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