Putting a New Spin on Things Is a Pain in My Butt

Many moons ago (no pun intended) I went to the gym five days a week.  I did weight-training exercises for about thirty minutes and then did cardio for forty-five minutes to an hour.  I loved this time.  The gym we went to had childcare (and back then I wasn't quite as crazy as I am now and I actually put my kids in there), a very spread out weight-training area (not at all cramped), and a movie theater cardio room.  Working out in the back row in the dark where no one can look at me?  Oh, how I loved that gym.

Often I would exercise at night as well.  Mike got a spin bike for his birthday, I don't know, four years ago, maybe.  At first I didn't think I would like it because I had had a negative experience in a spin class once.  This one negative experience added up to "I hate spinning and I can never do it, it's too hard!"  You can leave it to me to take one of anything and make it into an addition problem.  I'm tricky like that.

I don't remember what made me actually get on the bike, but I did.  I watched movies or Frasier (I was addicted to the reruns for quite a while-seriously funny stuff) and rode miles and miles while my kids slept peacefully upstairs and Mike traveled the world (or just our country).  And I found that I loved riding the bike, at home! Now it's been a very long time since I've exercised, at all much less regularly (unless you count lifting brownies to my mouth as a weight bearing exercise...they were pretty dense). Wait, I did do the aerobic floor mopping the other day...

What I've discovered is that there are natural and logical consequences following particular choices.  Say I slept with cotton candy in my mouth every night for three weeks and then went to visit the dentist.  He might be surprised that I have twenty-two new cavities and two teeth have actually been eaten away, but I should not be.  The same could be said for eating some form of chocolate every day for the last two years and finding that my shorts from last summer don't fit me so well anymore.  Sure, I can zip them up, but they don't hang like they used to.  Instead of sitting on my hips they lie somewhere closer to my belly button.  I haven't worn pants with a waist at my belly button since I was a junior in high school.  Ah, those were the days (that I would love to forget ever happened). Did you wrap your jeans legs and roll them up, too?  I did that.  Why?  Who came up with that look?  Now they just have skinny jeans...somebody got lazy, I guess.

Well, not fitting into my shorts coupled with the fact that my almost-two-year old wants to live at the pool this summer makes me want to get my booty back on that bike.  Even though it hurts...

Tonight I did it.  I won't say I did it for long, because that would be a lie.  But I did get on that bike, and worked up a little sweat, and got my heart rate up for several minutes before I felt like I was going to pass out and I needed to go get one of my healthy Kashi cookies and a glass of milk (dude, it's protein).  The truth is I wasn't entirely prepared to ride; I didn't have the right clothes on, for one thing.  But that burning in my legs felt good, and feeling my heart pound like that reminded me I'm alive, and having shiny arms again was a wee bit satisfying.  I'm looking forward to a longer ride when I get back on...doing it that first time is the hardest step (or pedal).  I feel like I'm halfway up the mountain instead of looking up at the peak from the lowest point in the valley! Now we just need to blow up that exercise ball and I'll be set. 

Buying some padded shorts is also high on my list of things to do...