It has been approximately 12 years since I last stepped foot in a gym. I am a living cliche, in that since my wedding, I have not paid any mind to keeping my body in shape. Yes, in between super fat pregnancy years I was thin, but that didn't count....I was stressed out and lived on coffee and cigarettes...hardly a model of good health.
About a month ago, someone commented that I "looked like i packed on a few". While annoying as it was, it actually turned out to be the kick in the ass I needed. I decided right then that I was going to stop eating like a stoned frat boy, and get back to when I didn't feel like a dowdy mother walking around with a 5 year old hanging off her boob.
The plan started off better than I could have imagined. By the good grace of God (and possibly a toddler at The Little Gym), I contracted the stomach flu. It was a long one, but a tolerable one. And in less than two weeks, I figured I lost about 40% of the weight I had intended.
Next....keep on a healthy food regimen and work out. My exercise of choice was a Pilate's video I used to do years ago. I found it used on Amazon.com and it arrived in only a few days. I was a bit dissapointed that it didnt come with leg warmers.
I purchased a yoga mat and was very excited to begin. I had originally planned to sneak to the finished basement, where the giant TV is located. However, due to technical difficulties, I was unable to do so.
As such, I was forced to use the family room TV. This would not normally be a problem, except I cant really "hide" there. I didn't take into account just how difficult trying to do a half hour of floor exercises with a crackhead nursing toddler, and a trouble making piglet would be. Not to mention the 10 and 7 year old wanting to get down on the floor and partake.
My routine is simple...I basically do the same thing each day. And each day I run into the same issues.
As I set up on the floor, Olivia immediately begins trying to eat my mat. There are currently 4 holes in the mat.
I am on my right side...my right hand supporting my head, my left firmly on the mat in from of me. Kicks to the front and back come first. Never can I thrust my leg forward without kicking either Olivia or Emma.
Sometimes Olivia thinks I am rubbing her and falls to the floor. Other times she tries to bite my toes off. Emma usually thinks its a game where she must outrun my legs. She doesn't. And I usually knock her down and she cries. But do I stop...no. If I disrupt the "burn" it will all be a waste.
Next, she tries to belly up to the bar (emma, not olivia). With my legs in the air, she begins to lift my shirt. If this were 1991, and she were a college boy, it might be the highlight of my weekend. But alas, this is not the case. I am trying to loose the love handles and saddlebags so lovingly bestowed upon my body by my offspring. (and yes, they are fully to blame) I can only imagine how horrible and Mommy and Me Yoga class would be. Would the instructor encourage me to nurse this kid while I do my leg lifts?
At no time can I stop. Come hell or high water, I must get through my routine. Now mind you, the entire thing takes maybe 30 minutes. It would be hard to imagine how many things are required by me when it comes to my children in these 30 minutes.
It never fails that Emma has to poop during this time. This has been the most annoying of the requirements thus far. As she has only been potty trained for a short time, and requires assistance in getting on the potty, I had, in the past couple of weeks, had to pause my tape and attend to her needs.
That is, until, It came to me during yesterdays "session". As I was in the middle of an intense bun and thigh routine she began "poop...poop..poop.." Now, with Emma, this can go on for an hour before she actually produces any sort of bowel movement.
I was not about to stop.....and I am knowledgeable enough about the routine to be able to press on AND hold a lucid conversation. I direct her to the corner of the room, where there is a small rectangle bin filled approximately 3inches deep with shaved pine. (If I am being honest, its a litter box) I tell her to go poop in the box. She looks at me oddly, and says "no, libia's".
I lie...and tell her that is "Emma's potty" when mommy is doing Pilate's. She looks confused....but I think she may be buying it. (I mean really, I knew she wasn't ACTUALLY going to poop within the short time I had left on the video...but I wanted her to have an option because I also did not want to stop to clean feces off the carpet)
She finally bought it....and went over to the box (in case you re wondering...it was clean and hadn't been used by anybody yet) She went over several times. She never DID actually poop in it, and I was able to finish the video. (its times like these that make me realize I really AM the person you want to be stranded on a deserted island with)
It was after this, however, that I told Dave I needed to go somewhere and work out. I just couldn't do it at home anymore...I needed time, and space.
So, today, I went to the Gym. I took a tour. I stuck Emma in the daycare and told her it was her new school. I was a bit put off by the number of housewives on the cardio equipment. Then i realized these were now my peers. I walked back to the free weights, where I plan on spending a good amount of my time. There were no woman there. Mostly Vinnys, Mikes and Ronnies.
I left excited at the prospect of getting out of the doldrums of my day to day routine, and getting a little bit of "myself" back.
Of course, I left there and drove right to the store where I spent $200 on workout clothes. (one must look the part)
Putting my socially awkwardness aside, I will begin construction on the new me. Tomorrow, I replace FML with GTL.
