I Don't Gym

         So there were only a few months left before the wedding, before being the mother-of-the-bride. I still had time to lose the weight. And I joined a gym that had a facility near the house and also one near the lab where I worked.

You know, the treadmill sounds easy and painless, in theory. And there is something called an elliptical which is supposed to be even easier. I tried to go in the mornings – around 5:30, so it didn’t dig into my work hours too much, and at the gym there would be fewer people. And I got on the elliptical and started moving my feet and legs.

I didn’t like it.

         The overhead music was dreadful, or rather, not to my taste. It gave me a headache and made me less motivated to go. The televisions mostly only had the news on that time of the day, and I had to bring ear buds to listen to any of the channels. But I did not bring any – I can’t remember why except that maybe I would have had to purchase some since they were not as ubiquitous around the house in late 2007 as they are these days. The ear buds would have also allowed me to listen to my choice of music. But again, I just didn’t bring any.

The two things I remember the most about being on the elliptical those few months attending the gym were Brittany Spears’ public meltdowns on the news and a music video on one of the other TVs of Mick Jagger and David Bowie doing the Locomotion.

         One of my co-workers, the same one who had done the Boot Camp that so impressed Mike, also belonged to the same gym. She and her husband would be there many of the same mornings I was. When I finished on the elliptical, I would walk past them on their respective ellipticals – they were both drenched in sweat while I was merely huffing and puffing.

         That’s when I realized I was probably not getting any worthwhile exercise at all.

         Working with weights at the gym was of no interest to me even though Mike would mention them almost daily. And while the indoor cycling class piqued my interest for a while, I never was able to coordinate a class with my lab hours – again, I don’t think I tried very hard.

         Swimming was fine. Except that I’m not really much of a swimmer. I like to stretch and float and do a few kicks. But to swim lap after lap? Yuck! I managed to talk myself into 18 laps when I was in the pool. I don’t recall how I got at that number and don’t know why it is I remember the number. But it was boring. And when I was done with the 18, I would think, “now what?” and all I could come up with was to do more laps – but to what end? It was still boring and most of my thoughts were about being done and getting to the lab. Other thoughts were of what I would do with myself if I ever were in jail? Walk back and forth across the cell all day long to no end?

my right foot

         So it was tough to talk myself into going to the gym at all. And then one morning at the lab, I had an accident with the liquid nitrogen. Some had spilled onto my right sneaker and left burn marks where the holes for the laces were and other parts of my foot where there was bare skin. The foot was blistered and became multi-colored. This was just the excuse I needed to not go to the gym! I couldn’t expose my foot to other people and have them wonder if I had injured myself at the gym or if it was infected and shedding germs or if I was contagious. You know, altruistic rationalizing.

         I stayed away for two or three weeks. The foot got better except for the scars of which some are still there today. The scars would not have scared any of the gym members, so I tried to motivate myself into going back. My visits, however, became ever more infrequent, and I knew I was getting nothing out of the gym, so I discontinued my membership, and in the eleven years since then, I’ve had no desire to ever go back.

         A few months later, the mother-of-the-bride was plump for the wedding.  I’m probably the only one who took note of it. And fouryears after that, I was a plump mother-of-the-bride at Amanda and Tony’s wedding. A disappointment to myself – it is the culture we live in. You know, if it came in a bottle, we’d all have great bodies!

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Boot Camp

         So it was August of 2006 when Sarah and John got engaged. The wedding was planned for August of 2008 – there would be a small window of days that month between John’s graduation from law school and the beginning of UGA football season, perfect for a wedding! I was very grateful to have two years’ notice, because that would give me plenty of time to lose weight! You know that losing weight has to be the first thought of any mother-of-the-bride in our culture, right?

         But as the next few months rolled along, there was no weight coming off. I had not been trying that hard, because, there was still enough time. And there was no Mission SlimPossible available then – and I would have cheated anyway.

         So the next spring, when the wedding was still more than a year away and Mike was tired of hearing me whine about my weight, he signed me up for a boot-camp thing that a co-worker of ours had been doing with great results. Mike did not sign himself up – just me. Such a dear!

         Boot camp was Tuesday through Friday from 7 to 7:45PM for, I think, three weeks. We also had to agree to a food plan set up ahead of time. Limiting my food was tough, but I did start losing pounds right away. The exercise was super tough, but anyone can do anything for just 45 minutes at a time, right?

We worked out in the parking lot of the boot camp office. There were a lot of jumping jacks. Like, we couldn’t just stand around in between exercises – jumping jacks were what we were supposed to be doing. Not a hundred and stop, no – just keep going! And then, I think it was starting in week two, we had to run a mile at the beginning of the session – which was five times around the building – this was a small strip mall. When had I ever in my life run a mile? And it was all so matter-of-fact – “run around the building five times and then we’ll continue on with the rest of the evening!”

         There are emails I still have wherein I documented in journal form the days of the boot camp. I ached all over, constantly, from day 1! And day 1 was just the orientation – paperwork and proving how many sit-ups and push-ups we can each do – my totals were 0 for both, but I guess that was enough for my body to ache the next day!

         After about three days, endorphins had kicked in and when a co-worker asked if I was going to sign up for Boot Camp II when Boot Camp I was all over I enthusiastically responded “Sure!”  I had started to lose weight and had squeezed into an old pair of pants. So, heck yeah! I’ll do a boot camp sequel!

         The Saturday after the first week of boot camp, Mike asked if I would please stop moaning every single time my body made any kind of move.

         The Saturday after the next week of boot camp, I was still hurting everywhere constantly, but I was hopeful that with just one week left, I was really going to finish the whole program – not quit, not get too injured to continue. That same afternoon, I twisted my knee helping Sarah move furniture. But I did not think I was too injured to return to boot camp.

         The first day of my third week of boot camp, I twisted my ankle – probably while trying to avoid further damage to my knee. I was officially finished with boot camp. Later I went to the doctor where an x-ray was taken. The ankle was sprained, not broken, thankfully. And apropos of everything, I got a boot that I was to wear for the next two weeks so my ankle could get better.

         So I started this post as an addendum to the last one to elaborate on why I don’t want to join a gym – but I haven’t even gotten to the gym part yet. There was still time left to lose weight for Sarah and John’s wedding. And there’s still another post to put down the story of my former gym membership.

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If It Came In A Bottle

         In January of this year, Mike signed up for a program at his place of employment called Mission SlimPossible. So cute, right? Many months have passed since that fated day, and Mike has lost close to forty pounds! He looks and feels great. The program finished in May, but Mike does not want the weight to creep back on him. So he joined the next program at work which is a sprint triathlon. This involves training up until September when the event is scheduled to take place.

        

Mikey did it!

At first the training was easy enough because, for Mike, it involved getting equipment and do-dads. Mike had his ancient bike refurbished – we tried to give the bike away last year with no takers, and suddenly this summer Mike is riding it! Amazon started delivering packages with swim goggles and bike shorts (ooh la la!), swim trunks and running shoes with the toes in them, and then, of course, socks with toes in them, and more socks with toes in them. This week some plugs that you put in each end of the handlebars on the bike arrived in the mailbox. Getting stuff is always fun.

         But then there is the other part of the training - the actual bike riding, swimming, and running for the triathlon. That’s all daunting! Mike decided to join a gym so he could do laps in the pool and build up the stamina needed for the 300 yards stint of the triathlon. There is a facility a mile from our house, so one Sunday a couple of weeks ago, we walked to the gym together. Mike was signing up for a membership and then going swimming.

         The lobby of the gym was open to the weights area – lots of equipment, and there were quite a few folks working out. I was suddenly overcome with an image from long ago. I was transported back in time to a living room and the television running a commercial with Cher for Holiday Spa. Googling now, the commercial was more exactly, Jack Lalanne Holiday Spa, and the year was 1985. Cher made a few ads for Holiday, but the one I was thinking of on that recent Sunday afternoon was the one with Cher’s hair cut super short and dyed blonde. She is most noted for her long dark tresses. But in the commercial with the blonde hair, Cher was working the weights and talking in a normal, non-I’m out of breath from this heavy exercising voice, about how we too could look like her if we worked out at the Holiday Spa. And at the end of this particular commercial, Cher said, “If it came in a bottle, we’d all have great bodies.” I could not find this on YouTube today, but did see a version that starts with a similar quote, “Getting blonde was easy. Getting this body wasn’t.”

         Mike headed toward the pool, and I told him I’d walk to the mall across the street. I do not want to join the gym with him! I had to go up a small hill to get out of the parking lot. It was very hot. The sun was beating down. I was already sweaty from the walk we had just taken. And all I could think while trudging up that incline was “if it came in a bottle, we’d all have great bodies!”

I walked around the inside of the mall – stepping to the beat of “if it came in a bottle, we’d all have great bodies!” I was hot, sweating, frustrated. That commercial was thirty-three years ago! And we are still working hard, still hoping for great bodies.

And why haven’t we figured out how to get great bodies from a bottle?

If humanity doubles the discovery of information every ten years, then, heck, we should have a formula for great bodies by now!

Mike texted when he finished, and I walked back to the gym. I stomped to the rhythm of “I bet these days even Cher wishes it came in a bottle. I bet even Cher wishes it came in a bottle! If it came in a bottle, everyone would have a great body!” He didn’t even notice my bitter mood. Mike was wiped out from his swim. The walk home was hot. We were sweaty. We were tired. And, we trudge on. Because, you know, we still have hopes for bodies we like someday. And those great bodies don’t come in a bottle, yet.

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