What words do you associate with the word gym? I immediately think of rock solid six-pack abs, chiseled calves, enough sweat to fill a grain silo, and a mountain of Ibuprofen the size of Everest to relieve muscle pain. Don’t tell my husband, at least not the part about my having noticed all those carved bronze chests and well defined calves. Whenever he threatens to join a gym, I feign ignorance and say,”Jim? Jim who? And, you are joining him to go where?” Then I repeat all my reasons for not joining a gym. It’s too time consuming. It’s too expensive. It’s too far away. I’ll never have time to write. Besides, I walk my dogs twice a day for at least 45 minutes to an hour, each time. That should be all the exercise I need. Me? Join a gym?
- NEVER!
I have my prison bracelet Nike FuelBand to keep me in shape – well, maybe not in shape exactly. It’s more of a tool that keeps me aware of how sedentary active I am. It even rewards me with bright shiny words of encouragement when I’ve been a good girl…
Shouldn’t that be enough? It turns out, it isn’t. Walking the dogs does not do a thing for my muffin top, which needs more trimming than it did after the birth of our twins, or my upper arms, which have taken on the semblance of a speeding semi’s mud-flaps as it hammers down the 101.
Hmmm…I suppose a tattoo could make them look better. Especially swashbuckling ones…
But The Gym? Is that the only answer to trimming the waist waste? Doesn’t tapping the keys on my laptop at a furious pace count as a cardio exercise? After all, a day of revisions has been known to increase my heart rate and make me sweat.
You’re not buying it, are you? Well, neither did my husband. A few weeks ago – it was midsummer – I promised to give joining a gym some serious thought. For eleven nights, I twisted and turned so much, you’d think my muscles would have tightened all on their own.
Then on the twelfth night, I had a rude awakening. Shakespeare and Hemingway stood before me – a true Midsummer Night’s Dream. Wagging their fingers, they shared their advice:
“Forget the nunnery,” William pronounced. “Get thee to a gym!”
“Indeed, my fair young lady,“ Hemingway boomed. “Do as you like it. However, joining a gym may very well have you bidding farewell to those arms!“
Upon waking, we joined a gym.
Three weeks and seven pounds later (my husband-6, me-1…UGH! Not fair!) after a strenuous workout, my husband duly noted our aprés gym whereabouts on Foursquare, a location-based social networking website for mobile devices. For being such a steadfast user, he was promptly awarded a free dessert:
Now I ask you, for whom does this sundae toll?
It’s back to the gym, I guess.
How about you?
Donna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner 
Well, i’m 51 and i can still walk 50 miles, I’ve done it twice in the last 4 years. I find new exercises to do as i get older.
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Absolutely Keith! It’s all about keeping active. Thank you for your thoughts.
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Wish you were here, I could re-start with you. I’m going post-treatment because I’m weak! Get in there and just do it….you will be so glad you bothered. A good workout also helps to make better food choices since the pain of working off that sundae becomes way more real. Go fer it!
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Who woulda’ thought, right? Wish I was there too. I’ll keep you in mind as my pump up buddie from afar. See you in a few weeks.
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I was a total couch potato until I was 30. The word “exercise” was tantamount to profanity. But after a lifetime of inertia and struggle with my weight, my body finally went into motion so I would never have to diet again. HA!
After 5 marathons, 1/2 Ironman-distance tri, & multiple other “events” (I can’t say “race” with a straight face) plus weight-training, regular masters swim classes, a massive workout DVD library (which I use)… I’m here to report the good news and the bad news. First the good news: for an old broad of 60, I’m very fit and super healthy–after every annual physical my doc says, “Keep doing what you’re doing.”
The bad news: I’m 20 pounds heavier than I was 30 years ago, and I can eat more calories than ANY amount of exercise I do burns off. Sighhh… I also have to put zit meds in the creases of my wrinkles. Not fair.
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Liz, you wild woman! You are my new hero(in). But no marathons for me…just want to get more fit. Thanks for the inspiration.
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Really enjoyed this. I’ve just joined a gym and it’s sod’s law that it is situated next to the biggest traffic jam magnet on the Isle of Wight. Everyone rubbernecks but actually I’ve discovered it’s just as interesting looking out at them… 😉
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I’ll bet it is, Helen. By the way, I love your poetry.
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Alas and alack; oh woe is me,
A Skinny-Minny I’ll never be.
I look in the mirror – but there is no mirth.
For all I see is a bulging girth.
The pain in my knees makes me cry aloud,
And I wish I could download new discs from the “Cloud”.
Running and leaping and doing star jumps
Are enough to make you feel down in the dumps.
But at last I have found exercise so cool,
I run, jog and leap, in a big heated pool.
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Oh Lyn, you are a stitch. Now all I need is a pool.
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you are hysterical! you have to post these things for money!!!I don’t know how, but you’ve got to get sponsors!
Oh and if it makes you feel any better, maybe your husband lost more weight because he has more to lose and you only need to lose a little.
And about those “mud flaps” I find that using self tanning creme on them makes them look better.:)
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Hmmm, tanned flaps. Sounds good. Thanks. Now run out and by stock in the companies that sell it…you will be rich.
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