I Am FREE....To Go To the Gym....Uh, Thank You?

Today I wrote a check for $127.

And it wasn't for groceries.

Or for an electric bill.

Today I wrote a check for a 3 month membership to...

...are you ready for this?

THE GYM.

No kidding. I put on tennis shoes and everything. My really cute metallic silver tennis shoes that were bought with looks entirely in mind. Bless their Nike hearts, they've never worked as hard as they worked today...

And they didn't even do much. (But, don't tell Mr. and Mrs. Spiffy Nike that...because they are under the impression that they really worked hard today....as are my muscles.)

Here's how it all went down...

It all started with Stephanie. And all my other health-nutty friends. I'm so proud of them, I really am, but I had made a commitment to myself to not join 'em. Because exercise and I just don't get along. And it's mutual. I embarrass exercise by even attempting it, and I don't like to sweat. So we are on much better terms if we leave each other alone.

And then, Stephanie had to go and talk fancy to me.

And before I knew it, I was making a gym date and committing myself to treadmills and weight machines for the summer. I'm still not sure what got into me. A total momentary lapse in sanity, I'm sure of it.

So, this morning, I woke up, pinned my hair up out of my face, laced up the rarely worn Nikes, and headed out on my date. I talked to myself the entire car ride to the gym, asking myself if I really knew what I was getting myself into. Apparently I am not a very good persuader of myself, because I continued on my way, met Steph, and paid the man at the counter. No turning back now. I'm still wondering if Kirk slipped something in my water bottle this morning, because that is another possible explanation for my whacked-out follow-through of this horrendous plan.

First stop....treadmill land.

My experience with treadmills is pretty nil. We don't have one at the house, and I can count the number of times I've been inside a gym in my life on one hand. I've seen them on TV, and I've driven past plenty of them while slurping a milkshake, but darkening the door? Uh. No. In fact, treadmills to me equal laundry racks...because that is how they are used in most people's houses.

Just sayin'.

I gingerly stepped on board of Mr. Treadmill. He had all kinds of fancy buttons, and I kept having visions of me either breaking Mr. Treadmill, or being that goob that gets going too fast and slides off the end banging her chin as she flies half way across the room. Luckily neither happened. Although I came close to the latter scenario a time or two.

I did, however, manage to sweat. A lot. And had to quit after a mile. Because I'm a wuss. And I was beginning to lose all feeling in my legs. Poor Stephanie...she could have kept on walking until next Tuesday, but she got off when I wimped out. Good friend.

After jelly-legging my way off of the treadmill, it was off to the machine weights.

Bless Stephanie's heart. She got more than she bargained for. Because I AM A MORON. And a TERRIBLE STUDENT. She was trying to show me how to do each of the machines, but then I would get all confused, and she'd have to show me all over again. And again. I'm so glad that she loves me....because I'm most definitely the most embarrassing person ever to hang around with.

After working all kinds of muscles that I didn't even know I had, I made a beeline for the exit. And dragged Steph out with me. I think she was still giggling at my moronacy. (Really...it was that pathetic.)

But, I survived.

And I decided to reward myself by getting a new pair of flip flops. And flip flops don't have calories.....so good for me.

After getting back home with new flip flops and bragging to the husband about being a gym rat (and having him giggle hysterically), we headed out for some Memorial Day fun with some really good friends (and lots of dogs! *wink*).

Here is me and Lisa...posing for one of our many paparazzi shots thanks to our 8 year olds.

And here is Kirk helping Wes with his new deck. They are all sweaty and sawdusty and manly. Lisa and I watched. I got sawdust on my feet...which I think totally counts.

And then Lisa and I did what all thoughtful wives do....we took naps, while the husbands slaved over 2x4s.


~~~~~~~~~

On a serious note, my heart is so grateful to our veterans who have fought and our soldiers that are currently fighting for our freedom. And to those who have given their lives for the sake of my family's liberties, words are not even enough to express the appreciation that swells my heart. I'm honored to be an American. An American with choices to make that are frivolous like to gym or not to gym and to flip flop or not to flip flop. The freedoms we have are countless, and are so often taken for granted. I'm thankful for sacrifice. And for willingness. And for devotion.

I pray that your holiday was a blessed one spent with the people that matter most to you, and that a few moments were reserved today for remembering those that make this country free.

And munching on a hot dog or burger while doing so ain't too shabby either.


Happy Memorial Day 2009!!