12 January 2012

Fleetwood Mac highjacked my IPod: Why I will never reach my goal weight walking on a treadmill

It's hard to break a sweat listening to  Landslide.

You could say fitness came natural to me. I was raised by a mother who worked out at the Gloria Marshall fitness salon. Have you heard of the place? No? A room full of women lying on machines that were contorting their bodies while they chatted-never breaking a sweat, never mussing up their shellacked and coiffed helmet hair. O, those memories. I had my first TaB at Gloria Marshall(my earliest memory with that stylized beverage-I could have possibly had one earlier, but the saccharin has literally rotted my brain cells). What were we talking about? 

Ballet, gymnastics, and taB, I mean tap came at the age of 5. By 10 I decided to hang up my toe shoes for basketball sneakers-big, BIG mistake. Suffice it to say I still have flashbacks every time I walk into a gymnasium of any kind. Having a coach shout, "Get your ass down the court!" in a Christian basketball league will do that to a kid.

Traumatized and with no natural talent, I decided to quit basketball and join a health club. By myself. At the ripe age of 15. I promptly dislocated my knee-twice. 

After my injury I turned to the only woman who I thought would understand. Jane Fonda. I decided to quit the gym and take up aerobics in my own home gym. No one would judge me. 

I became bored. College came and with it a new adventure:swim team! I still love the smell of chlorine.

For Christmas I was given a mountain bike and enjoyed the flat roads of my college town. Operative word being flat. That parlayed into hiking. Then I met a guy. He bought me some really great footwear. And we hiked a lot. We lived near some great mountains. 

When life moved us from the mountains, I found solace back in the pool. And began practicing yoga. The water carried me through my pregnancies. With a few detours along the way-one involving a treadmill that resulted in me being carried out of the local Y.M.C.A on a stretcher-with an ambulance waiting in the parking lot. 

Not THAT Hungarian. Mine could totally take this guy!
With 4 pregnancies under my belt and showing nicely on my waist, I decided the best thing I could do was find someone to kick my arse. And boy did she kick it. The Hungarian entered my life when I was stagnate in my fitness routine. She transformed me in ways I never imagined. It was glorious. 

Then we moved. Again, closer to some mountains. Now we hike with a few extra people in tow. Yoga is a weekly practice. Spin class has taken the place of mountain biking. Swimming keeps me company in the summer months. I am still evolving into a fitness aficionado.I may never look THAT good in tights and leg warmers. But that's okay. They would just get in my way slow me down.

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