I started a class at the YMCA today. It’s called Fit Moms. First, lets address all the issues I had to overcome just to sign up for a class designed for stay-at-home moms with little kids. Or let’s not. Let’s bury them deeper.
So it’s a group class led by a certified trainer. It’s 12-weeks, one day a week and was $25. Sounded like a cake-walk but enough accountability to get me going to the gym again. And let’s face it. This post-baby inner-tube I call a belly is not going away without some professional help. So today was Day One. Orientation. How hard is that, right?
Wrong. I broke a sweat, couldn’t breathe and at one point was certain I was going to pee my pants. And this was orientation. As part of orientation, our trainer, Beth, informed us about 1273 times that each session will include at least 30 minutes of cardio. Outside. Running. Awesome. I might need to intentionally break a bone before the next class.
But here’s the catch. I’m overly competitive. Even when you don’t know there is a race, I am beating you. When you aren’t aware of the game, I am winning. And some of these moms can literally run circles around me while I stand panting for breath. So I’ve got a dilemma. I can show up and lose the (not-actually-real-but-my-brain doesn’t-get-that) competition, or I can work out extra days in the week so as not to look like a big, fat pansy when it comes time to run next Monday.
We all know what I’m going to do. I’ll be at the Y Wednesday. Cause I’m that stubborn.