January of last year, I started yoga again (after a hiatus of several years). I went twice a week, almost religiously, until October…and which point I just up and quit.
I didn’t quit because I stopped liking it all of a sudden. It was more like, October was a crazy-busy month and I’d be missing most of the classes anyway so I just decided to take the month off. And then, we were sick for all of November. And December…you know, holidays and all. And then it’s suddenly January again and we’re all sick – again.
There are a million reasons why I have a hard time making it to the gym. If only I had a few more hours in each day…and a nanny…and…the list could go on, and on, and on. If only, if only, if only.
Last week I went down to the gym and bought a one-month membership and a 10-visit childcare package. Claire is still in the clingy/rife-with-separation anxiety stage, and screams like a banshee at the slightest hint that I might be leaving her alone with a bunch of strangers in a new place, and this is one of the reasons I’ve been reluctant to shell out membership fees.
She’s a bit older now, though, and I’ve decided to give it a real go.
I’ve only been twice, and both times I’ve left her in the capable hands of the childcare center at the gym. Today when I picked her up, they told me she was so mad when I dropped her off that she’d yell “NO!” and turn away whenever they tried to talk to her…or even look at her. After she settled down a bit, though, she enjoyed coloring and spending time with the other kids (in fact, when I picked her up, she glanced my way and carried on with what she was doing, as opposed to having a complete emotional breakdown the second I walked through the door, like she did last time).
Summer is right around the corner. It would be nice to be able to squeeze into one of the many bikinis I have shoved in a plastic box in the back of my closet. Wait…did I just say, “bikini?”
Hang on a second…bikini….hahaha! HA! HAHAHAHAHAH!!
I don’t know. I guess weirder things have happened. Somewhere. Maybe??
There was a time when that box of bikinis would have been the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, a worthy goal, a means to an end of dieting and working out. But I think those days are over.
These days, working out is about something much more immediate. I like the way I feel when I work out. I like the way I feel when I eat healthy (umm, I also like the way I feel when I eat treats, too, though). I like the way I am better able to handle my day – my moods, my cravings, my messy house, my children – after a workout. And I won’t lie – I like the idea of getting 45 minutes or so completely to myself each day.
So I’ll give it a fair shot. I’ll go as often as I can for the next month or so and see what happens.
Just don’t tell Claire. I kind of don’t think she likes it as much as I do.