It is not that I have anything against exercise. In graduate school, after my car died, I rode my bike everywhere for two years. In Miami.
But aside from those two years, and an award for being Most Dedicated on the Stone Mountain High School swim team my freshman year, I’ve been sitting at a desk for the better part of my life so far. And, like most college-educated professionals in this country, my work involves very little of what most people in the world would call work. So I must work out.
This is something I accept intellectually and have managed to put into practice only sporadically.
My freshman year of college? I actually lost 15 pounds when my roommates and I made regular appearances at step aerobics classes. I even bought – and wore! – one of those thong leotard things you wear over the biker shorts. Ew.
I went running a few times with an old boyfriend, and I even took kickboxing for a brief period in 1999. There were two stints at the Ladies’ Workout Express, where I worked out in a circuit with a traffic light in the corner telling me when to move from a weights to a step and then on to the next machine.
Each time my motivation flagged, and it felt inevitable. So this time, I decided to bring in a professional.
So far I’ve had just one session with my trainer, but I feel like the accountability, encouragement and variety may keep me on track. That and the fact that I need to fit back into my business clothes when I go back to work.
More importantly, though, when I lay down on the floor for tummy time, helping my daughter learn to lift and turn her head, I want to be able to get up without rocking and launching myself with a grunt. And when my son wants to race me across the parking lot I want there to be a chance I will win.
So, I will get up while everyone is still sleeping and sneak out when the kids are in bed. One week down, a lifetime of better health to go.