So we've joined the local Y as a family. Husband needs to exercise. He's always worked very physically demanding jobs and now he's working at a desk, clicking a mouse all day. I NEED to exercise. I feel so much better, physically and mentally when I do. It's essential for me to finally shake this depression that's been lingering like a bad cold. The worst part? Come close, so I can whisper this. I haven't lost any of my pregnancy weight *hanging head in shame*. So last week while husband was home from work for the week during the holidays I went to the gym. By myself. I put a sportsbra on. I walked to the gym, walked up the three flights of stairs and opened the door to the cardio/weight room. Thankfully I was a member there years ago (when I got the cheapo student rate), so I knew where to go. Eyes on me. Several. I swear I wasn't imagining it. I got on an elliptical machine (safe, I knew what to do, no freaky settings) and started up. I looked around the room. Yeah. I'm fat. Not only that, but I'm the fattest person in the gym. What. The. Fat? It was the most embarassing/discouraging/motivating moment for me. I know I'm overweight. But SERIOUSLY? The ladies at the gym were all Lululemon wearing stick insects complaining about eating too much on a cruise.
I used to love going to the gym. I went regularly before I got pregnant. I thought, I'm totally going to workout all through my pregnancy. I researched what I could do, what was safe. Then the morning sickness took over my body. Then the fatigue. Then the belly. I walked a lot and did prenatal yoga until my 40th week. I want to get back to where I have a regular routine again.
So, I'm going to start a Weekly Workout Wrap-up. To keep myself honest. It's like Weight Watchers, but cooler. No overly made up lady with poofy hair and pleated pants clucking at me to count every Bite-Lick-Taste. I did WW before. I became obsessed with the points, and not in a good way. So it's just about being sensible and getting healthy (and getting out of the stretchy pants).