Let's be honest, I hate being uncomfortable. When I find myself in the middle of those "would you rather" conversations I get completely stumped. "Would you rather freeze to death or die of heat?" Hmm. Neither really. I think I'll opt to go in the blink of an eye on a 73 degree spring afternoon while snoozing on the back deck. Speaking of death, let's get back to the subject at hand, exercise.
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I haven't partaken in that particular form of torture for years. After graduating with honors from Pulmonary Rehab at the University of Utah hospital I was turned away with a clean bill of health. I was in stellar condition, most likely the best I had been in my married life. So I did the only logical thing, I got pregnant. I made regular visits to the local gym, undaunted as I pushed through the "wow, that girl has really let herself go" stage of pregnancy. You know the stage. You don't look pregnant, just super thick around the middle and fuller in the face. (The husband's annual office party is inevitably scheduled during this period.)
I attended my doctors appointments religiously. My O.B. was becoming increasingly worried as my weight gain continued to fall well below normal. "You need to stop working out and be sure not to limit your calories," she informed me while scribbling something in my chart. JACKPOT! I was smiling from ear to ear as I put my gym membership on a temporary hold. "Sorry. Doctor's orders."
That was five and half years ago. After the successful delivery of our healthy baby girl the gym rules required our membership be taken off hold. Although we were back to paying our monthly dues I had a million and one excuses as to why I couldn't workout. I did step through the front doors once to take my little one to the restroom while waiting for our car to be repaired next door. "Hmm. When did they remodel this place?" It was good to see my money going to good use.
I recently decided to give up my denial. As I was standing at the front desk canceling my membership the fit looking 20 something perched behind the counter actually said, "Let us know when you decide to get your butt off the couch." Sweet. I love honesty.
So that's that. I've run a time or two since then, although I use the term "run" loosely. When I say run, I mean jog out of my immediate neighborhood, walk slowly around some others and resume running only when reentering the ward boundary (which begins at the house to our immediate right).
Would you rather exercise or . . .
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3 comments:
I choose "or". Is that a valid option?
Really! I'm so surprised the person at the counter said that...
Okay, so this may be the one and only time where your not speaking directly to my heart. I love exercise...but hate the gym. I can't go in there...it kills my exercise mojo. I have to be outside running, biking, swimming. That's it.
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