When my youngest son, Stryker was old enough, I was excited to get a gym membership that offered childcare. I had 3 kids under the age of 4 and I looked forward to a little time to myself to work off all that excess baby weight….well, I was just excited to get some time to myself, by myself, but with other people too, other adult people.
I dreamt of the uninterrupted showers in the locker room, abs of steel replacing my postpartum baby belly, getting to read books in the nice lobby where they provided free coffee, watching cable TV, having an excuse to wear my leggings or yoga pants every.single.day.
I had very little shame left or so I thought.
Unfortunately, the shower area was not as glamorous as I had imagined. I was lucky if the water was warm at all and it’s like they picked out a shower curtain to fit one stall and then cut it into thirds to cover all the stalls.
“Don’t give them each their own curtain, that would be too MUCH privacy and who needs that!? Also, shower curtains are really expensive!” Haha
So if you pulled the shower curtain to cover the gap on one side, then you’re completely exposed on the other and it warps in a way that no matter where it’s at, you’re left all hanging out.
“Hey everyone! LOOK at ME! I just had a baby! Look at my saggy naked insecure body!”
And then there’s all the older ladies (who God Bless Them!), have no insecurities about their naked bodies at all and for some reason, that makes me feel uncomfortable. But I envy their confidence. And the water pressure was really poor anyway and hair in the drain. Enough said. Blech.
So I don’t take showers at the gym.
Then I decided to try a few classes I thought might be fun or that I at least wouldn’t die in. Plus adult interaction.
And I needed to feel like I accomplished something, besides world record diaper changes or how many cheerios I can collect in my couch cushions. Which, the answer by the way, is ALOT! So I did yoga a few times with a friend, but what I thought might help with my hip pain, only made it worse.
Then there happened to be a Zumba class at 10:15…..that is my magic time. I can’t be anywhere on time with 3 kids if it is before 10, but 10:15? We may not all have combed hair or brushed teeth, but we can make 10:15, so I thought I’d give Zumba a shot.
I didn’t know anything about Zumba except that it had fun music.
I didn’t take into consideration that you might need rhythm to move to THAT music.
A little rhythm. Okay, any rhythm at all.
I am athletic and I love competition and I like to think that I can be decent at most things, but rhythm? I have very little. I can clap on beat, but that’s about it.
So I walked in to the class. I looked around feeling confident, seeing some women well into their 50’s and 60’s. Oh yeah, I got this. Still, being new, I placed myself in the back of the class in-between two of those older ladies.
The teacher walked in with gold Nike High Top Pumps and a high ponytail. She was quite a bit older than I, but dressed like a teenage cheerleader and made it work. The music started and the movements were slow and I was feeling good.
Then my memory gets a little fuzzy…..
Within seconds, the music went into hyper-speed and I think I blacked out. I put my arms in the air and moved my feet to try to blend in, but every few minutes, I would catch myself just standing there staring at the person in front of me trying to get a grasp of any movement that I could imitate.
How does everyone already know how their supposed to move? The older ladies next to me were killing it and I was just staring….sometimes not even realizing it.
Then I’d maybe catch on to the beat for a second and wail my arms and legs around a bit.
Then I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye.
Something was attacking my face!
I’m pretty sure I fluttered my hand at it like it was a bug.
I looked down and oh, no worries…..it was just my reusable nursing pads sticking out of my shirt tank top and attacking my face like a turtleneck!
Yeah, there’s no way to discreetly shove nursing pads back into your bra. But I did it anyway. Because the only thing more embarrassing than booty sweat is obvious boob circle leakage. UGH. Gotta wear the disposable with the stickies next time.
Next time? Hahahaha
On the way home, I told my 4 year old daughter about some of my silly experience. I said I felt like a flamingo and a giraffee collided and tumbled down an escalator. I could tell she was embarrassed for me, “Mom, was everyone looking at you?!”
Probably. Oh well, I can laugh at myself. But that class may not be for me.
So now I just stick to the elliptical, a couple weight machines, Food Network Channel and the free coffee in the lobby.
I’m pretty good with that.
Oh yeah and I wear my yoga pants whether I’m working out or not.
Do you have any funny or embarrassing gym stories? I’d love for you to share them with me in the comment section!
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