I don't talk to my husband about working out, and honestly, I don't even want him to know I'm working out. It's weird, I know. I just get embarrassed (or something.)
We've always clashed heads in this department (exercising) starting back in college at Baylor when we were dating and we went to the Student Life Center together to work out and he told me to do 100 sit-ups and I told him that I couldn't do 100 sit-ups, and he said, "Just try." And I said, "Just give me a goal I can accomplish." He was angry (I've always assumed it was with me?), and that is one of the few times in the last 18 years that I have seen him cry. His were tears of frustration...and yes, a little bit of anger, because I wouldn't try. And I was frustrated because I don't set outrageous goals and then thrive in the failure of not meeting them--I try to set reasonable goals and if I exceed them, all the better. I'm a baby-stepper.
That was our first time working out together, and it was our last for several years.
When I lived in Austin, I mainly did kickboxing at a community center with my AmeriCorps buddies, and then my best friend and I audited a yoga class at the local community college.
My husband and I got married and I moved back to Waco, and I took some continuing education classes at the community college (belly dancing, jazz dance, modern dance). But mostly I was in the throes of grad school and my first years of teaching, so I kept that to a minimum.
Of my own volition when we moved to Tuscaloosa, I started taking a Jazzercise class (that led to my full-time employment through networking) and was later able to secure a spouse's pass to the recreation center at Bama so that I could use the treadmills and take some of the group fitness (dance) classes. I took up the sport of running, with the intention of running a marathon, and my husband decided to run with me. Except he's faster, so he didn't really run with me. He ran ahead of me (which was fine), and I ran my own pace with a running buddy that was his law school friend. (That's when I started this blog, actually. I ran two marathons and two half marathons and lots of little races.) I also started getting involved in community theater summer musicals, and sang and danced in the chorus for two summers. It was a workout for the brain and the body.
When we moved to Auburn area after law school, I started taking Jazzercise class here, too. That didn't last as long as I wanted, though, because I found out I was pregnant, and I was ready to crash by 5 each night. I was driving 45 minutes each way to and from work, and by the time I got home (especially after the time change and it was dark outside) I would fall asleep on the couch. After the baby was born, we would try to run the 5k races in the park every Tuesday night in the summer. Even after baby number two was born 15 months later, I would try to run/walk those races in the summers pushing a stroller.
When I got tired of people who kept asking me if I was pregnant/when the baby was due, etc., a co-worker and I started working out after school. We both had just had a baby, and we also both knew that once we left the school building, nothing was going to get done. It was in those 45 minutes or never. That was a great year, but progress was derailed by summer.
We tried again in subsequent years, but our after-school duties took up our time. Three years ago, my husband deployed for the first time, and after Christmas I joined Planet Fitness. I kept that membership until he got back for a few months, but then life was too crazy to go. In the year following his return, we actually did work out together a bit. (It was torture for me, but he had spent the year working out, and I needed to find a way to bond with him when he got back, so we worked out. Until school started again and life got crazy...again.)
Then, twelve months after his return from the first deployment, he left for the second. And it all hit the fan. Four kids. Working full time. I was drowning. We ate a lot of fast food. I did NOT find any time for myself. My neighbor asked me to walk/run with her, but I couldn't because there was no one to watch the kids in the house. We were on the go all the time. I dreaded weekends, unscheduled time.
Thank goodness we are on the other side of that now. I started taking Irish dance class in July and have been doing that ever since.
Two weeks ago I signed on to work virtually (over the interwebs) with a real personal trainer through a program called ClassFit. It's all about the baby steps. It's about lifestyle. It's about sustainability. I'm really hoping that I can get over myself and let this program help me in the ways that I need to help myself be healthy.
And maybe, just maybe, I'll get to the point where I can talk to my husband about working out and we can figure out how to be a fit family...together.
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