back on track...for now

After two months, I finally made it back to the gym on Thursday. I took a couple of weeks off right before Thanksgiving. Then I got sick, so I decided to take the rest of the year off.

That turned into me eating like a mad woman who hadn’t had food in weeks. I tell ya; there is nothing like eating then rolling into bed for a good two-hour nap. Then getting up to eat again, then tumbling back to bed for an hour nap. That was my routine. Before I knew it I just brought the food to bed. Why waste time getting up? So I let myself go and decided I would get back on track at the beginning of the New Year. After all, I had worked out from February to November. Nine out of twelve months aren’t bad.

But after I stood in the mirror looking at my jiggling thighs I had some major regrets. Maybe if I hadn’t had that second piece of cake… Ladies and gentleman I have Beyonce thighs. I’m not talking about the ones Miss Beyonce has now. Those are the thighs I hope to have in two months..well maybe six. I’m talking about the old Beyonce thighs, before she toned up and broke from her group Destiny’s Child.

Last year I obsessed about my abs and successfully lost and gained the weight back, but this year it’s going to be my thighs. I can easily lose 5-7 pounds in a couples just by working out and controlling my meal portions, but after that I either gain it back or stay at that weight. I have to get to my goal weight: 120.

So I dove right back into my routine on Tuesday by going to step class. Unfortunately, it left me trying to catch my breath after the first 20 minutes. I had to leave 5 minutes before the class was over because I just couldn’t take it anymore.

So I decided I was going to ease into things instead. But my biggest fear came true. I sat on the bicycle machine and I had no idea how to work it. I have feared this since the moment I walked into the gym. Workout equipment and me equals disaster. I started pressing all the buttons and with no luck nothing happened. I looked around at all the other people – not for help, but to make sure they weren’t watching the idiot who couldn’t work the bicycling machine. After a while, I decided to do the “lets try something new today and work out on this machine” look and moved to another. Like I knew what I was doing. No luck.

Until my trusty co-worker walked through the door, whom I happened to mention to earlier that I had a little anxiety about working the machines. She sat next to me and I whispered, “I need help!” She told me to start pedaling. The dashboard lit up and I was on my way. No more Beyonce thighs here I come.