I am not really much for exercise. I have, at times, forced myself into some regime, and often, even very much enjoyed it. But making it a lifestyle has never been my way.
Usually, I have turned to fitness when I needed to lose some serious weight. You could say I am not very consistent with maintaining weight loss or staying in shape. Since 1999, I have gained and lost over 220 pounds cumulatively. That is a LOT of roller coaster action! Now cut me a little slack, because I did produce two lovely little
Unfortunately, right now, my weight pendulum is swinging so hard towards heavy that it might fly off and knock some sense into poor Sweet Hubby who is so blinded by his love for me that he doesn't even notice. (Or at least, he is too nice to mention the extra junk in the trunk)
So going to the gym is part of my renewed effort to shed more than a few pounds. After my last baby, I eventually turned to Weight Watchers and had great success, but I am finding that I am too emotionally dependent on food to make that work this time around. So I am hoping some physical activity will give me the jumpstart I need.
It will take me a little while to get over my mini panic attacks as I walk into a fitness establishment. I quite literally feel like the proverbial "white elephant in the room". I struggled to keep up with a brisk walk on the treadmill, while the guy next to me trained for the Boston Marathon or something. But I figured it was better to start slow, and not pass out on the machine. I am sure that would have been more embarrassing.
I think that a good music selection on the iPod will definitely help motivate me. One tune that came on during my "walk" was Flo-Rida's "Club Can't Handle Me". Ha! I thought, as I picked up my pace, and the machine started to shimmy a little, I just hope this treadmill can handle me right now.