You may remember that I once had aspirations to get into shape. To get really toned and learn to break things with my butt. Yeah, that's not exactly turning out as planned. Mostly because I hate working out. I HATE it. I would rather starve myself than work out. The problem is, I don't starve myself. I think. I should probably work out. Nah, let me go eat a block of cheese instead.
People that work out are always like, "After that run/job/weight lifting session, it just makes you feel so good. You just have to get yourself motivated to do it." No. Not me. I workout and I'm like, That was TERRIBLE. I have to do this everyday? I'm going to go eat some cheese now.
The other week, I decided I would stop being lazy and just go to the gym. My dad has a gym membership and I asked if I could tag along. He is a gym rat and he was glad to have some company. So we met every morning at 8 am after I dropped the kids off. In my head, I thought it wouldn't be that bad. I could just run on the treadmill for 45 minutes and listen to Sir-Mix-A-Lot.
We get to the gym and I'm 40 minutes into my run and my dad taps me on the shoulder. "You ready to do abs?" I never told him I was doing abs. I had no desire to go to the ab area, but apparently when I told him I was going to accompany him to the gym he made the assumption that I was asking him to be my personal trainer.
It's my dad, so I gave in and let him show me how to use the ab machines that looked like torture devices. I was doing this one thing and this random guy came up to me and was like, "If you turn to the side you will work your obliques." I was so irritated by him for some reason. He acted as if he was the wizard of Planet Fitness, imparting his eternal wisdom to me. I wanted to punch him. I hated the ab area.
Then we did squats. My dad was said, "Okay, now I want you to do that twice a day at home." I was like:
DAD!!!! I am a grown woman, with my own home and family. I don't have to listen to you anymore.
I didn't say that though, I told him I would. I lied....to his face.
The next day, we went through the same thing. I ran on the treadmill and then I felt the tap on my shoulder. It was my father, my wannabe personal trainer. "Come on, ab time."
I groaned and reluctantly went over to the ab area. I looked around and the Planet Fitness wizard was nowhere to be seen. I was glad. He showed me how to use a crunch machine thing. "Okay, your turn. Do 30." I got on the stupid machine and and crossed my arms. I pulled myself up with all the force I had in my body. Then it happened.....
I peed my pants. True story.
That happens sometimes since I've had kids. It's not a typical thing but rarely if there is an unexpected sneeze, cough, or laugh it could happen. It's a pee pee pants algorithm: degree of bladder fullness x level of body exertion divided by the time of day equals likelihood of pee pee pants.
I did my 30 crunches and then I was like, "Dad, I am beat. I need to go home." He was just oblivious. "What? C'mon, we need to do squats and weights." I just started walking toward the door. I was filled with shame and discouragement. I need to find the kegel machine. It wasn't noticeable, but I noticed and that was enough.
The next day my dad was like, "You didn't meet me at the gym this morning. Are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm just doing my squats at home." I haven't been back since. That was 11 days ago. Screw it, I'm just going to eat less cheese. I'll tell people I just had a baby....8 and a half years ago. Seems legit.
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