Last night, I went to the gym. It's been a long time since I have gone to a gym. I've never been the type of person who had a gym membership. It always seemed a waste of money to me. It was something that I could never really understand.
However, I was always impressed with those people, my friends who worked out. They actually enjoyed it. That baffled me. They desired the gym. They needed their workouts. They talked about it with such positivity. Incredible.
So last night, I signed up for a free trial week. If I want to join after that, it will be 20 bucks a month (thanks to The Husband's union benefits) and I can go as much as I want, and do whatever classes I want. I think that's a pretty good deal.
My first experience at the gym: Zumba class. The gym was filled with women (and a few men) of all ages, doing Zumba for 45 minutes. It was fun, although hard to see the instructor through the sea of people. Obviously it's a popular class. I think I'll like it better the more I get used to the movements.
Next: Weights. I went with a new friend, and we are going to motivate and encourage each other. She showed me some different machines to use, and last night we focused on shoulders and arms. All good.
Throughout the evening, I kept eyeing the treadmills. People actually like running. Again, this astounds me. I've never been a runner, and never want to run, and probably couldn't run if it saved my life. Is there a big secret that everyone knows but me? Running. Running. Running.
I took the opportunity. I got on a treadmill and bumped up the speed until I was at a manageable jogging speed. I was doing it. I was running!
I haven't ran since my first year of college. Thus, I did not have my expectations too high. I decided that I would run for five minutes. Five Minutes! You know what, for someone who couldn't even run around the block without stopping, I thought five minutes was very ambitious.
Miracle of all miracles, I lasted the whole five minutes! I didn't stop. I didn't slow down. I ran for five minutes! It may seem silly, but I was happy. I felt accomplished.
I came home, and told The Husband, with excitement bursting through me, to guess how long I ran for. He could see that I was proud of myself, and guessed 30 minutes.
My bubble broke.
It was just five minutes. Hardly any time at all. Five stupid minutes. What was I so excited about?
But you know what? I'm still proud of myself. I'm proud that I didn't quit after one minute. I'm proud that I got on it in the first place. I'm proud that I'm actually going to the gym. If five minutes is what it takes, to become, in essence, my baby step....then five minutes it is.
The Husband was actually very proud of me, and my decision to make myself healthier. I have a long road ahead of me, but I'm hoping each time I go to the gym, it will get easier, and more rewarding.