i hate to move it, move it.




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I have always, always hated exercise.

Confession:  I routinely “sat out” in gym class in elementary school because I hated running from one end of the gym to the other.

Confession:  My parents MADE me do recreation t-ball and one season of pitching machine until I proved that I clearly did not want to play by day-dreaming in the outfield or being benched.

Confession: I took a C+ in freshman gym in high school rather than “dress” every day when I didn’t want to do whatever it was we were doing.

Confession:  My dislike of physical fitness was so huge that in college, rather than take an actual gym class for my health requirement, I found the ONE classroom class (drug and alcohol and the body) and took that instead.

Confession:  When I turned 25 and became aware that my super awesome metabolism was no longer super nor awesome?  I tried to just not eat as much rather than have to exercise.  I may have spent and entire summer trying to live on chips and beer (which I realize is silly because they are both fattening).

Confession:  I love food.  Like whoa.

People?  Exercise feels like the devil to me.  I honestly do not understand these endorphins that it is supposed to create.  Maybe I am not doing it right.  Maybe I am not doing the right things.  I don’t know, but I have convinced myself that it is all awful.

And then I found group fitness.

Honestly, when my friend first invited me to her gym to take one of her classes, I looked her tight little body up and down and got extremely queasy at the idea of being the chubby, uncoordinated chick in the corner.

It took months of earnest requests, but with another friend, I finally went.

I was terrified when I walked in and saw mirrors on three of the four walls.

Good Lord, I won’t be able to escape myself…and neither will anyone else.

We found a spot in the back of the room and waited for the class to begin.

Once the music started pumping and we all started moving, I forgot that everyone could see me huffing and puffing and I just got into it…even with my fit little friend jumping around calling me out over her headset.  I just smiled, and sweated, and kept going.

And I felt like hell that night and the next day…and the next week.

I was still skeptical about going back, even though I enjoyed myself.  However when I walked in, I was greeted by the people I had only met a week before saying things like, “Hey!  You’re back!  Awesome!” and “Oh good!  You’re here!  We hoped you would be back!”

The next week, I was actually looking forward to going.  I couldn’t believe it.  Never in my entire life had I ever ever looked FORWARD to working out.

When I became pregnant with Eddie and my OB told me that I had to stop the classes because I was not allowed to burn upwards of 1000 calories in one hour?  I was bummed.  BUMMED!  Me, the anti-exerciser.  The Fail Fonda.  I was SAD I had to cut back on my aerobic activity.

I could have quit completely.

But I didn’t.  My new-found love of working out kept me hitting the treadmill and yoga until Eddie actually wouldn’t let me anymore.  Until he protested with Braxton Hicks and too much reflux.

I never thought I would say this, but because of my positive experience with the gym, I am looking forward to my schedule clearing up in the next month so we can join a local gym and I can get back to a regular workout routine and hopefully join a couple classes.

I had always shied away from group fitness for fear of being the chubby klutz, but when you find the right group?  It’s all encouragement and fun!

yup, the hubs and I did a 5K...ME! the anti-runner!

Now tell me…what have you tried that you thought you would hate?  Did you change your mind about it?

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