Some of you may remember this horribly unforgettable picture that I featured in a post from last year.
Yes, it appears as though I have become the Poster Child for being fit and toned. (You can stop laughing any time.)
With the heavy responsibility of Poster Child-dom on my shoulders, I figured I should do something to maintain my impeccable reputation of international renown. And so, as I mentioned last week, I have started going to the gym. (Thankfully, the gym in Manteo is free, free, free which makes me happy, happy, happy!)
You might be curious as to how it’s been going for me; in fact, I’m sure that question has been keeping you awake at night as you’ve wondered if I’ve been making all the other gym goers look bad with my sleek and sweaty svelteness.
So just because I’m a nice kind of person and I like to keep my blog readers informed about the important aspects of my life, here are a few miscellaneous observations I thought I’d share with you about Gym Life, written from the perspective of the reigning magazine cover girl of fitness. (Hack, cough, ahem.)
Last week I was on the treadmill next to this particular lady when she suddenly started to sing! Not just sing, but SING! Loudly! Then she stopped. Then after a while, she started to sing again. I assumed she was listening to her iPod and just sort of forgot where she was when her favorite song came on; however, when I sneaked a cautious glance in her direction, I saw that there was no iPod in sight. She was just singing for the sake of singing.
I must say that anyone who has the fortitude to burst out into song while on a treadmill deserves my great respect. (Although I’m not planning on engaging in Treadmill Singing anytime soon.)
Shadow of a Mastectomy
After I had been going to the gym for a couple days, I spent a little time with the (little bitty skinny) woman who is in charge of overseeing all of us buff, gym-going types. I wanted to get her advice on two things: stretching and working with free weights.
She started with the stretching instructions and commenced to showing me some of her favorite moves. These particular moves involved the flinging of herself to the floor and then taking both legs and both arms and intertwining them into the most alarming pretzel shape you’ve ever seen in your entire life. It made me hurt to watch her.
She smiled cheerily in my direction and said, “So what do you think?”
I replied, “That’s not going to happen.”
I think her smile lost one shade of cheeriness in the face of her recalcitrant, unwilling-to-be- pretzel-ized client.
We decided to go ahead and move on to the strength training and I thought it might be good to mention my mastectomy and tell her that I didn’t want to work certain areas of my chest and pectorals too hard.
It caught me by total surprise but when I started to briefly explain the situation to her, my throat got tight and I felt myself tending toward teariness. I was like, “Where did that come from?”
Seriously. I didn’t know the emotion was still there. But it is. It probably always will be.
And that’s okay.
Gym Observation Three
My Husband: The Chick Magnet
Steve’s and my morning schedules don’t always gee haw real well when it comes to going to the gym together but we did manage to finally accomplish it on his day off last Friday. It was his first time to go so I kind of showed him around a little bit and then I went about my usual business of making the other gym goers jealous.
After awhile, I figured I should check on how Steve was getting along and, well, I don’t know how else to say this, so I’ll just go ahead and say it. He was over in the corner of the gym-- surrounded by women! Four of them! They were chatting animatedly with him, laughing coquettishly and acting like he was the best thing since sliced bread.
I was just slightly taken aback by all the female attention he was getting. I mean, I’m not really the jealous sort but--four women? Gathered around? So stinkin’ admiringly?
Um . . . did I remember to mention that their average age was 75 and that one of them was a great-great grandmother?
Yup. It’s true.
It turns out that one of them had recognized him and introduced him to her friends as that “new young pastor” in town. (Young being a relative term.) And next thing you know, he was the most magnetic (older) chick magnet around!
And may I just add that this chick finds him particularly magnetic?
And that I’m the one who gets to go home from the gym with him?
Be still my heart.
I was pleasantly surprised this morning to find myself listed at The Pennington Point as one of Lisa’s favorite blogs. (Thanks Lisa. You made my morning!)
And may I just also add that you won’t regret dropping by Lisa’s blog and bookmarking it. She and her family are some of the most creative people I have ever heard of—plus, she’s an excellent (and funny) writer.