Saturday, January 14, 2012

My Joey (2008)

It is no secret among friends that I would like to lose the rest of the weight I gained during my three pregnancies.  Really it is more about being fit and looking toned that is important to me.  So, I decided I need to just use my gym’s childcare so I could work out.  I finally got my rear in gear and I headed to the gym with my friend Jolie to help free the joey from the pouch that is permanently attached to my body.  

Life was good. I don’t love the treadmill, but who does?  I did some free-weights to help firm the old lady arm flab that seemed to be a part of the package deal when I purchased my minivan.  Then I went to the machines.  
Now, I was already worried about the machines, despite the endless number of times I used machines at my last gym.  Still I attempted to look like I knew exactly what I was doing.  Of course that doesn’t often work for me when I am clueless.  I ended up asking a boneheaded question that left my looking like a complete dunce.
Oh it gets better.   I saw a guy that helps me out from time to time when I teach the toddler gym class.  I knew he was a trainer and was ready to pick his brain.  I wanted to know how the hell I was going to get the joey to flee the pouch.  He went on to say that there was no particular exercise.  Rather, I just need to "lose the weight."  Okay, I wasn’t feeling like a lard butt  that day until this moment.  Embarrassed, I let him know that I am technically in my healthy weight range.  He quickly put me in my place and let me know that my muscle to fat range is clearly not.  Dang!  I wonder why he isn’t married...I think I need a brownie sundae.

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