I’ve done something that I never thought I would. Never in the proverbial million years. No bloody way. Anybody else, but not me.
I have joined a gym.
It was DD’s idea, and she pulled a little bit of a guilt trip on me. “But Mo-o-o-o-om! I rea-ea-ea-ea-eally don’t want to go by myself!”
And like all good parents everywhere, I capitulated. I even paid for her as well as myself. That’s just the kind of mother that I am.
But really, who am I kidding? I need to do this for me. I’m starting to get the muffin top. I’m getting a bit saggy here and there. I’m beginning to notice that I don’t look so terrific in sleeveless tops any more. I see that my body is not as young and firm as it used to be. I am aware that my body now lacks tone and definition in spots.
Dammit, what I really want is fabulous arms like these:
And I will get them. Someday. In a galaxy far, far away, no doubt. If ever I can remember what to do on each machine without having a trainer follow me around explaining it yet again. If DD ever stops laughing at me long enough to actually help me when I’m particularly confused. (You know, DD, one day you too will be my age, and you too will not learn new things quite as quickly as you did when you were 22. Yes. True fact.)
I will keep you posted periodically. Maybe when I can do one real push-up. One. That’s a realistic start, don’t you think?