This story starts with me on the treadmill at the gym.
I was totally bored because I had forgotten my headphones and was drearily watching the clock. Then I saw my friend Corlee and her sister walking to the room where classes are held. "They're going to Zumba Gold???," I asked myself. "How can they do Zumba, let alone the gold class?" I got off the treadmill and followed them through the door. Oh! It's gold as in g-OLD. It's the Zumba class for oldies...not gold medalists. Duh. And I joined in.
Besides my introduction to Zumba Gold, a few things have come together to get me back to the gym.
First of all, it's time to renew our membership. I have to prove to Scott that I use the gym and it's worth the money. If I had a graph of the days I exercise over the years, I'm sure my frequency would always go way up during renewal month.
Second, last Sunday, as I put on some really tight, super control-top pantyhose, I could hardly pull them up. I felt weak in the arms. It shocked me. And scared me. I can't pull up my pantyhose!! What????
I've always struggled with consistency in exercising - it's so easy for me to find fifty million other things to do.
But when I go, I like it. It's not bad really, and I don't notice the "lost" hour at the end of the day.
I remember I used to say to myself when I was doing really good on exercise, "Of all the things you do today, this is THE most important." And I believed it...until I forgot.
A month ago I got back on the bandwagon and went to the gym. I saw two people I know who go regularly, and I cheerfully said to them, "I'm back!" And then I didn't go back.
(I don't HAVE to go to the gym to exercise; I do walk outside sometimes, and Scott and I ride our bikes on occasion, but I believe I get a better workout by going to classes at the gym. As far as exercising at home, forget it. Too many distractions. You know, burnt cookies and all.)
So what am I getting at here. Well, this is very embarrassing, but I've started going to the Silver Sneakers and Zumba Gold classes. Silver Sneakers classes are the classes for the elderly where they sit in chairs and lift two-pound weights.
Guess what. I'm stiff. I'm tired...you know the good tired that you feel when you've exercised.
I'm looking forward to class next week.
Instead of being the old lady in the step class filled with twenty-somethings in shorts and sports bras, I'm the young lady in the seventy-something class. Instead of being the lady who could only use one step instead of a stack of three, I'm the lady with the eight pound weights in my hands. Instead of going left when the whole class is going right, I'm getting every aerobics step with ease. I'm the gold among the old : )
