I joined the family fitness center. I mean what in the world. Listen. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired and the last time this happened I was desperate to be in great shape so my ivf would take and I could carry a baby (TWO BABIES) and then those same two babies did my body in and perimenopause is happening and 46 years is around the corner and I am full of rage and anger and sadness and it outweighs the gratitude some days – many days – and my body is CARRYING IT.
I joined a motherloving gym. This is different. This is desperation to just feel better. The kids and I went in last week to check it out. THIS GYM HAS A POOL! I can bring the kids and do family swim and there’s a track for laps and the kids like to race each other and me and sometimes that’s allowed. These kids are cheering me on from the jump. They were shocked to discover I had my own yoga mat under my bed. YEAH IT HAS BEEN A MINUTE SINCE MY LAST NAMASTE. There are classes and I need classes because I need that accountability because left to my own devices to just “WORK OUT” I will simply fumble and fall and basically not do it because why would I do that if somebody isn’t helping me along?
SO. Zumba. Zumba Gold to be exact. It was my first class and I was nervous. But the ladies (I want to call them broads because that’s what they were, fantastic broads at that) were so welcoming and the instructor was delightful and when she played Rise Up by Andra Day at the end, well, I knew I was in the right place. I cried as I exhaled and stretched after cha-cha-ing my way to a light sweat and feeling my body in a way that I haven’t in a long time. I got out of class and called my mama because I almost felt like she was with me in that class.
It is exhilarating. And while I look uncoordinated and don’t really get the timing, I can do something. Remember when I used to love spinning class? Well, they have spinning there! So I’m going to work my way up.
I have a lock for my locker, I walked into that gym nervous as hell because anxiety, but dammit, when I am back against a wall I can kick the hell out fear.
I am strong. I carried two babes and then carried two babes in their carseats up a two flat with stairs for a year. I walk back and forth to school twice a day many days carrying two scooters or other nonsense that moms carry. I am strong. But lately I feel my body doesn’t belong to me. I feel like my body is wearing me instead of me wearing my body and it sucks. IT SUCKS.
The weight of the literal world feels super heavy (because IT IS) and while my family and meetings and circle of women in my life is second to none, I need more. I need a physical release. This isn’t complicated and people (I SEE YOU DOC AND FAM) tell me all the time that exercise will help with my moods and depression and anxiety and overall feelings, I DO NOT CHANGE UNTIL I AM BACKED INTO A WALL.
Just like when I got sober, I needed to hit a bottom. I needed it to get so bad that I was willing to join a motherloving gym and then GO TO THAT GYM. Part of why I am writing this even though I don’t want to is so that you all know I am going to gym now. With the Zumba Gold ladies. And I want to be accountable.
My little brother is Mr. Physical Fitness – I mean a BEAST – and many many times I do a phhhhhht to him and his relentless exercise but I swear to god he is consistent and does it for many reasons and it helps him in his life and I HATE ALL THAT. I mean I want what he has. I want to feel better.
I just want to feel. Better. It’s not about how I look or my weight gained, which is definitely a thing, but I don’t mind that so much. I feel ok with weight, I just need some relief and I’ve tried everything else. I have TRIED IT.
So here I am. In the pool with the kids and at Zumba and Yoga with the ladies, even going to the regular Zumba class sometimes though I’m struggling to keep up. There comes a time when you just say fuck it. I am going to do whatever it takes to just feel better. I need to feel like I own this body instead of it owning me. Or at least have it be a partnership again. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired. There have only been a few of these moments in my life, but this is one and I am in it sharing it with you because I need you.
After 17 years with a dedicated desk and workspace in the Tower, I now leave that behind for working from home almost every day (still full-time mind you). I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT THIS WONDERFUL LIFE CHANGE. I am becoming a person who wears spandex every day. I’ve invested in a few new sports bras. I can take a lunch break and run to the gym. Gym shoes are my go-to footwear. WHO THE HELL DO I THINK I AM. The kids are in school or at camp and I AM RECLAIMING MY TIME.
I am not quitting on bedpie for good, just adding in some other stuff to balance out the luxury that is bedpie and the notion of bedpie. Because there must be balance and I had lost that. It’s only been a week and I am in that pink cloud phase. I’ve got 25k steps on my fitbit each day and I am riding high because I am MAKING A CHOICE FOR MY OWN BODY. Nobody else is making that choice for me and nobody else is going to do it but me. That act in itself feels like resistance these days. YOU FEEL ME.
So now I have an alarm going off every morning asking me to make a choice and I am doing it and then I am going.
I was out with Sheila the other night who is also out here killing it to feel better, and she said, I kind of have a glimpse into what Katy feels like each morning when I feel that groundhog day thing of “ok we are doing this again today” as it relates to addiction and making a better choice instead. Sam has joined a Planet Fitness because desperation is real! Kelly admits to stopping her eating candy like a teenager phase (I AM NOT THERE YET). So many of us are IN. THIS. PLACE. We just want to feel better.
Doing what is good for me is oftentimes the hardest. The most difficult choices have been the ones that changed my life in ways that are remarkable. I want this to be one. I need to stop throwing anything in my body or mind to escape. I cannot live like this any longer. Sure it’s one thing to talk about being happy, joyous and free all the time, and I really am. But after you’ve been sober for almost two decades and a mom for a better half of a decade and just alive on this earth for too many decades, you question what it’s all about. This is for me. My kids see that and it’s an added benefit without me even having to say a word.
Last night they had a Family Fun Night at the kids school. You best believe I was out on that dance floor shaking it with all the kids and few other moms and it was way more fun than I expected it to be. If my body is allowing me to do that shit, I best take advantage of it while I can.
I am trying something different, because that’s the only thing that’s snapped me out of the darkness before. I really really really like being comfortable and safe and not doing anything different. But here we fucking go.