90 Days

Nearly little muscle in my body hurts from my flow class yesterday. Some are sort of screamy-hurt. It takes masterful effort not to walk like I've been riding horses all week long.

This gets better, right? Please promise me it does.

I thought I'd share a couple of goals with y'all since I'll probably be blogging about my gymming it up [note: I promise this won't become an all-fitness, all the time blog], and it will help me keep on track.

I want to lose around 10 pounds. HOWEVER, I think that weight is just another way to measure health. I don't live and die by what the scale says. And I'm not going to diet to do it (although: healthy recipes and snack ideas always welcome here). I've already cut out pop, I don't eat fast food, I like veggies and fruits and I don't eat much pasta, etc. I figure my diet is pretty dang balanced right now. If I diet, I will hate my life and not go to the gym either. I will take my measure more from the way my jeans fit, but I know they fit me when I weighed about 10 less pounds.

I want to gain muscle. I want to have a nice, toned, strong body. I like the way Jennifer Aniston's body looks (obviously I will never be that skinny because I don't, and won't, live on whatever bottled water she promotes). Toned and strong, but not wiry or hard. If that means I have to weigh more, so be it.

I want to gain even more flexibility. I'm about as flexible as a two-by-four, but I'd like to continue striving to be more flexible.

I want to feel happier.

I want to feel more energized.

I want to feel capable of performing even moderately difficult athletic tasks.

I want to conquer my stomachaches.

I want to conquer stress and anxiety.

I want to work up to going to the gym five times a week. Yep, you heard it here, friends.

I know I am not really old. But as I age, I want to always feel like "dang, I am in the best shape of my life." I want to live well, be well, and be active in making that happen.

I want to make it past the three-month mark my trainer warned me about. People often quit at month three. I have to make it past that.

Here we go.

Stop the Bench Presses

People.

This is not a test.

I joined the gym yesterday.

No, for real.

No, it's not April Fool's Day.

Like, oh my God!

It's time. Here's why:

Community ed wasn't really delivering anymore on what I wanted. I loved most of the classes I took and I'd still consider going back to my belly dancing class but otherwise, I needed something more. And the last class I took was a joke, and a waste of a month's worth of gym money for five measly classes.

I know, right? Me, something more? Here are some more reasons:

• I get a little discount with my health insurance. And I have to go or I don't get the discount.
  
• I figure the barrier is a little higher when it comes to fitness at a gym vs. comm ed. This ain't no Richard Simmons' oldies class.
• I have lost a little weight, but I need to lose a little more before I'm satisfied.
• My doctor has recommended that with my two irritating illnesses, IBS and thyroid disease, to exercise five times a week. Say WHA? I'm not there yet. But I hear him.
• The Y was offering no joiners fee, and a free consult with a trainer.
• My sister belongs to the Y and we both are taking an interest in fitness, so we will push each other to go to class.
• Extra endorphins can't hurt. Especially as we enter the season called Depression around here.
• I've been inspired by some bloggers lately. And my husband.
  
• And the biggest one: I can eat more cheese if I work out. instead of a carrot dangling in front of me, imagine a chunk of Old Amsterdam Gouda and a Mounds bar.
• Expect updates.
• I would love some encouragement.

Dudes. I JOINED a GYM.