I have a love hate relationship with my exercise wardrobe (Ie. a random mix of Nordstrom rack and TJMax running/ tennis apparel- neither of which are sports that I actually participate in willingly). They are a constant reminder that I should be exercising when I am not which is usually. They also are a visual cue to the outside world that I am unable to shower and get dressed if I need to leave the house (when I look at all presentable I am asked repeatedly where I am going- presentable being jeans and fleece). I can put up with these largely self-inflicted mild scoldings though, due to the comfort, forgiveness (black and elastic), and sporty image which exercise clothes breed. Realistically, I am sure no one in my small eastern NC town is fooled by this clever deception as no one even bothers to ask anymore if I am fresh from the gym. Probably because they most often see me dressed in this attire at Food Lion or Rose's (akin on some distant level to Target).
I do have a gym membership, in fact I have had three in the last five years. I am deeply ashamed to admit, but abiding in transparency, I have spent roughly $30 per gym visit. That not so good. I have lost 40 pounds, though 30 of those were the same 10 repeated. Anyways, I really want to exercise but I can not for the life of me figure out how to not make it the only thing I accomplish all day.
6:45 am- wake up, find exercise clothes, get dressed
7:00 to 9:15- get family out blah blah blah
9:15- think of someone to meet at the gym
11:00- go to gym
12:00- more blahs
1:30- plug little people into TV and take shower, make bed, lie on bed and watch Kool TV
2:45- more child duty
4:00- time to think about dinner
I am being totally serious. Last week, I went to the gym for four hours but realized by the end of the week that those four hours had previously been used in weeks past, truly unbeknownst to me, to put laundry away. Instead, it languished all over my bedroom and the neat piles were scavenged for white turtlenecks in frigid temperatures. Speaking of frigid, I do enjoy skiing and that certainly counts as exercise even though I get to do it a couple of days, ummm, not quite every year.
I am not seeking assistance or guidance in when, why, or how often and how much I should exercise. I can read and know enough of my peers who go to booty camp while it is still dark or run for enjoyment, do their Bible Study, and drink coffee before cheerfully awakening their children. I am not one of those, I relish my sleep and am a better mother if I stick to 12 hours shifts; this means after 12 hours of talking, pleading, cajoling, and scolding I am done. If I were to jump on the pre sunrise bandwagon, I would be totally unavailable after 6pm. And so, I will continue to try or hem and haw and someday run out of excuses or laundry. In my dedication to transparency, I am sharing this musing written in early 2013 entitled "Diary of a Stay at Home Mom". After two chapters, it went down the toilet. I was evidently drowning in my darling children, aged 4 months, 4 years, 6 years and 8 years. Alas, I have conceded defeat and while I may never exercise enough to justify my clothing choices, I am content and can write happily in my slothdom.