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2014-01-22 / Loose Ends

All pain, no gain

Susan Nienow

I know I am not the only one to have cookie remorse. The only thing worse than that is pie penitence. Whatever the infraction, there are lots of us at the gym trying to undo the damage done through the eating season from November through December and the munching of leftovers during the first few days of January.

I try to eat those treats quickly so they are not around to tempt me. It’s the same number of calories, right? And they’re not as good if they get stale.

It’s not really a resolution, but more of a disoriented elf sitting on my shoulder nagging me to get fit. Guilt gets me to the gym and an unwillingness to admit failure keeps me there for the hour. It’s not enough to make me stay longer than that, though.

January is always the busy time at the gym. I am not the only one who would like to make a new beginning. But I would rather that those who go to the spin class and then dash over to the “move it or die” class please stay away for a month or two. You are making the rest of us look bad.

When I walk in and hand over my “key tag” at the desk, I expect someone to come up to me and say, “I remember you. Weren’t you here last year about this time?”

Frankly, I hate to exercise. That is why I am paying to do it and signing up for things I have to show up for. The trainer who is pushing me to make progress said that it should be about three months before I feel comfortable doing these exercises.

When my kids were in elementary school, I noticed that when I returned to aerobics after the summer vacation, it took about six weeks for the pain to subside. Apparently, it takes twice as long now. It would be ideal if I just stayed in shape. That is not going to happen, so I just keep at it, waiting for that euphoric feeling I read about to kick in.

Oh, I would also like those who look great in spandex and wear it to the gym to please wear a baggy T-shirt once in a while. I’ll loan you one. I haven’t bought florescent shoes, but I do have a lime green shirt. I’m sure I fit right in with the non-spandex regulars.

If there is ever a place I want to be anonymous, it’s the gym. I am not wearing my favorite outfit. I don’t have makeup on. I haven’t done my hair. I may still have pillowcase marks on my cheek. When I leave I may be “dewy” and looking like something the cat dragged in.

The problem with exercise is that I can’t do it and cross it off the list. It is on the calendar for every other day – or so – and doesn’t go away. It’s like dusting the furniture only more strenuous, and there’s no dust elf sitting on my shoulder.

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