Limping Through Life

Limping through life- and I almost wish I was speaking figuratively.

You see, a couple months before we moved out here, my siblings all joined a gym. Since the point of moving here was to be close to family, we decided we should join the same gym. There may have been some motivation from the extra stress pounds our recent move provided.

I could go buy pants one size larger or try exercising.

The first day I went,I joined my sister and in-law on the elliptical runners. After a half hour, I thought I was going to die. Then a couple days later I tried out their dance aerobics class. And realized the "going to die" of two days before was nothing compared to how I was really going to die. It mostly felt like my legs were wanting to fall off but wouldn't as a punishment for what I put them through. My arms and shoulders staged their own protests. Not that being able to lift my arms above me waist is important or anything.

After three weeks I was still sore after working out, but I was only slightly limping the next day. I thought I was ready to push myself a little more.

And then I tried Zumba.

I went past thinking I was going to die to wondering if I actually had. Afterwards I crawled into bed and stayed there the rest of the night. I'm talking 7:00 at night. The next day all attempts at walking were with tender care, and kept to absolute minimum The stairs in my house? They were taken toddler style: step down one step- bring the other foot to meet it- take another ginger step down- bring the other foot to meet it- repeat all the way down- keep grimace to minimum. Not to mention my stomach muscles.  I thought they went into permanent hibernation after my sixth child was born.  Well they woke up with fierceness and let me know they were not happy to be awakened so cruelly.

I think I might be a little out of shape.

(Getting out of breath walking to the pantry to eat more chocolate should of clued me into that fact long ago.)

The funny thing is, after limping around for three weeks, I love going to the gym.  I've tried lots of exercise before: running, walking, pilates, wii fit (that counts, right?), but never really looked forward to doing any of it. But I look forward to going to the gym.  I like the elliptical runners and treadmills and bikes. I like those evil muscle-wrenching classes. For the hour or so before the limp sets in, I feel great! Already I notice the limping is letting up and I can run farther and harder than I could at first. Plus, Matthew enjoys the babysitting room with his cousins.

I plan on hitting the zumba class again this Friday night. Maybe this time the limping will only last one day instead of three. Or maybe my legs will actually fall off? I'm think I'll be good, either way.