… with my gym.
I started going Jan 5th. No, it was not a New Year’s resolution; I don’t make those (at least for myself ;-) It just so happened to be the day that the gym opened its doors (I am sure, conveniently planned for all the resolutioners.)
It is literally a three-minute drive from my house. I don’t have the commitment level to drive 15 minutes to a gym.
It costs $10 a month, no contract.
Mind you, it doesn’t come with any frills like a swimming pool or childcare corner. But, 1) I can’t swim anyway and 2) I really don’t want to worry about my screaming kids over in the corner while I am trying to work out. (Plus, if you have to dress the kids, get them into the car, get them out of the car, orient them to their new corner, assure them mama is just over there on the treadmill, check out the sullen teen they hired to care for your flesh and blood, worry about which of the other kids is a biter… hope yours aren't, work out feeling guilty that your kids are crying for you, end work-out early, pick up the kids all sweaty, get them in the car, get them home, and continue on with the routine, it doesn’t sound nearly as appealing. I’d probably never go.)
But still…$10!!! I am no mathematician, but by my calculations, if I go 10 times a month, my cost per visit is a mere dollar. What can you do for a dollar anymore?
Plus, going to the gym as much as I want is guilt free! I figure my body has sacrificed enough for others: I had to give up months in pregnancies, c-section recoveries, months of breastfeeding and night-wakings. I deserve to get back in shape.
I had the perfect motivation: I was at home ALL DAY with the kids. By the time dear hubby got home, I could think of nothing I’d rather do than run myself into a stupor on the treadmill, BY MYSELF!!.
So I was working out almost every day and I was just starting to look AWESOME!! So awesome that I thought I’d give my dear hubby a fair advanced warning as to my future toned physique so I asked him how he was going to feel when I was all buff and sexy.
He didn’t even look a little threatened or concerned.
Pishaw, he could have at least faked it.
Ok, maybe I was not looking awesome... YET... but I could have after a few more weeks at that frequency. But now that I started teaching part-time again, between prep-time, grading and trying to still spend as much time with the kids as possible, I am just too tired to go 5 times a week, now it’s more like 3, so the love has died… a little.
Man, and I was all psyched to be buff and sexy… bummer… maybe during my next stint of unemployment.