It's Fun to Stay at the YMCA

     We joined the Y. We get to do it for free since Cole is a recruiter and we are not affiliated with a post, so he does not have regular PT. The rule is we have to each go at least eight times a month for our membership to remain valid and cost free. We just found this out yesterday. But we signed up just last week, and we are unclear as to whether or not that eight times applies when there are only eight days left in the month. 


     We went and worked out all three days of the weekend last weekend. Then Monday, we didn't go, but I did the elliptical at home for forty minutes and the (don't laugh at me!) shake weight for the recommended six minutes. My body was hurting on Tuesday. But we had to go to the Y. So, being the sneaky couple that we are, we swiped our cards to sign in, then walked around for a few minutes, and walked out. Tonight we are going again, but we are actually going to work out. 


     I hate working out. I hate sweating. I hate pain. But for the first time in my life, I am not working or going to school (though I am looking for jobs and thinking about going back to school - but that's a different post for a different day) so I am not as active as I used to be. Working at Pier 1 was a huge workout, walking around constantly, lifting furniture, unloading truck, etc. Being in school, my classes were always on the opposite side of campus from each other, so there was the quick walk to get where I needed to be at the time I needed to be there. But right now, I can only walk around my house so much. The only thing I am really lifting is laundry baskets. So needless to say, I've gained weight.


     I've never felt skinny. I've always felt like I was bigger. And compared to some of my friends who are a lot shorter than me and wear size 0 jeans, I was bigger. I'm tall and I have curves. I always have. But my curves have gotten a little out of control lately. I've weighed the same thing from the age of seventeen up until Cole and I started dating. My mom always says, "Love makes you fat and sassy!" And it is true. I finally mustered up the courage to weigh myself, and I found I had gained thirty pounds since meeting Cole. I look at old pictures (that I distinctly remember years ago complaining how fat I was in them) and I can't believe how skinny I was in them, how small my arms were, and how small I am not anymore. 


     I'm not fat, and I know that. This post is not about me being superficial and crazy over gaining a single pound. I love my body. But Cole and I have only known each other for two years. Thirty pounds in two years may not seem like much, but what would happen if I gained thirty pounds every two years? Eventually, that would make me extremely overweight and unhealthy. So I just want to be healthier again (and fit into my wardrobe again!) It seems impossible to have my seventeen year old body back, but nothing is impossible, especially since I am only twenty-two. I can do anything. 


     When I picked out the name for this blog, I thought long and hard about it. And it fits. It fits everything about my life. So here is to adjusting not only to the Midwest, but also to working out and living a healthier lifestyle. And hopefully to my body adjusting so it will look like it did when it was seventeen! :-)