Back at the Gym
My first day back at the gym since Colton was born. I pay for the unlimited babysitting that way I will actually go to the gym. I of course don’t make it to the 9:15 class on time, because that would require me leaving the house before 9:10… which I was not able to do, despite the fact that I was trying to leave by 8:45. Whatever.
I drop the kids off and head upstairs. Yeah. Definitely cannot join the class late, no room and everyone would be pissed. Okay, I’ll ride a bike. I find the oldest person there and sit next to them. That’s what I do when I want to feel good about myself. Everybody knows old people statistically are slow. I sit down next to this lady and as I adjust my seat, I realize this is one hot older chick. And fit too. But it’s okay, because I’m an athlete. I start my bike. Oh no! I didn’t bring my ipod because I thought I was going to go to class! That’s okay. I’ll watch t.v. Oh no! The t.v. won’t turn on until you plug in your headphones…which I can’t do because I don’t have my ipod. And my book is downstairs in the stroller. Great. Thirty minutes of staring at myself.
I’m only on level 1. But I’m feeling awesome, so I bump it up to 2…..whew! This is so easy! I get up to 7…. And then my bike goes to hill… and I start sweating. And I glance at the older woman next to me. And she is not sweating. She must still be on 1. I smile. I turn back to my bike and I focus. 7 is way to freaking hard so I back off. And I glance at the old lady’s screen. Dangit! She’s on an 8! An 8? Aw geez. My statistics were against me this time!!! But I bet she didn’t just have a baby! I catch myself. This is New York. Anything is possible. She probably DID just have a baby. It’s probably twins. And she probably gave birth walking to the gym. Ugh. I roll my eyes. And she has a book. And earphones. Dangit!
And so I sit, with myself, wishing I were that 60 year old hot chick sitting next to me, with her level 8 bike riding, Electronic book reading, music listening self. But then I realize it is quiet. There is no music. There is nothing to read. There is no t.v. There is no one who is hungry. There is no one who has to pee. There is no one who wants to know where scissors are or if they have to walk the dog tomorow (YES you have to walk the dog tomorow!). It’s just me and the whir of the machines. And I look in the mirror, staring at myself (because its either that or stare at someone else which would just be even more weird) and I realize that this is a good day. That I might not be on level 8 like Ms. Thang over there, but I am on a bike. That I am by myself. That everything in my house is in order. That my kids are downstairs happy. That it is quiet. That I am back at the gym. That I am awesome.
I drop the kids off and head upstairs. Yeah. Definitely cannot join the class late, no room and everyone would be pissed. Okay, I’ll ride a bike. I find the oldest person there and sit next to them. That’s what I do when I want to feel good about myself. Everybody knows old people statistically are slow. I sit down next to this lady and as I adjust my seat, I realize this is one hot older chick. And fit too. But it’s okay, because I’m an athlete. I start my bike. Oh no! I didn’t bring my ipod because I thought I was going to go to class! That’s okay. I’ll watch t.v. Oh no! The t.v. won’t turn on until you plug in your headphones…which I can’t do because I don’t have my ipod. And my book is downstairs in the stroller. Great. Thirty minutes of staring at myself.
I’m only on level 1. But I’m feeling awesome, so I bump it up to 2…..whew! This is so easy! I get up to 7…. And then my bike goes to hill… and I start sweating. And I glance at the older woman next to me. And she is not sweating. She must still be on 1. I smile. I turn back to my bike and I focus. 7 is way to freaking hard so I back off. And I glance at the old lady’s screen. Dangit! She’s on an 8! An 8? Aw geez. My statistics were against me this time!!! But I bet she didn’t just have a baby! I catch myself. This is New York. Anything is possible. She probably DID just have a baby. It’s probably twins. And she probably gave birth walking to the gym. Ugh. I roll my eyes. And she has a book. And earphones. Dangit!
And so I sit, with myself, wishing I were that 60 year old hot chick sitting next to me, with her level 8 bike riding, Electronic book reading, music listening self. But then I realize it is quiet. There is no music. There is nothing to read. There is no t.v. There is no one who is hungry. There is no one who has to pee. There is no one who wants to know where scissors are or if they have to walk the dog tomorow (YES you have to walk the dog tomorow!). It’s just me and the whir of the machines. And I look in the mirror, staring at myself (because its either that or stare at someone else which would just be even more weird) and I realize that this is a good day. That I might not be on level 8 like Ms. Thang over there, but I am on a bike. That I am by myself. That everything in my house is in order. That my kids are downstairs happy. That it is quiet. That I am back at the gym. That I am awesome.
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