A fitness routine? Me?

2 comments July 15th, 2009

I’ve never been a fad kind of gal. Never owned a Thighmaster, never followed the Atkins diet, and never did Pilates. And I never had to worry about my weight. Never say never. I’m over 40 now and my metabolism is no longer that of a teenage girl. I can’t live on Coca-Cola and Hostess cupcakes anymore. Well, I could, but my butt would start to look like a couple of cupcakes.

Over the last twenty years, I have attended various aerobics classes and I did Jazzercise (once). It was for fun and friendship, not fitness. Then something shifted. I think it’s called flab. This past year or two, gravity landed on me with a thud. My clothes got tight. I opted for denial. And more cupcakes.

I joined Curves. I rarely went. I could go around the circuit with pushpush chatchat and not break a sweat. No one to blame but myself. I joined Peak. I went once. The trainer told me perhaps I should get in shape before I attempted their classes. Hmm. Talk about needing a cupcake. Then I saw an ad in this very paper for a kicking/boxing/variety kind of workout class at Rockford Academy. I had just read a magazine article about a gal who had tried everything for exercise and a boxing class was her cure. I called. The trainer made me come in for an appointment. I walked in and he said, hello, give me twenty pushups. And he made me punch a bag, and squat and jump. I was a sweaty beast after thirty seconds.

But I signed up. That was last October. The first night I thought I would pass out or puke. I go two, three, four times a week. The class is 30 minutes and every night I am a sweaty beast. Our trainer, Master An, always asks if it was a good workout. For me, just showing up is a good workout. I am seeing change in my arms and legs and stamina.

I want to look as buff as Madonna does at age 50. Well, maybe. I want to be able to wear my clothes and be able to walk a flight of stairs with a laundry basket and not get winded. I also want toning and a hint of definition. I’m pretty sure Madonna could take me in an arm wrestling match (or a dance-off), but for me, this is the closest to a fitness routine that I have ever had. And it feels good. I like when my body feels a little sore. I know it’s a good sore. And I know if I keep up with the workout, I can fit in my jeans and still enjoy my Coke and cupcakes. (Just don’t tell Master An.)