When I joined the gym I had three goals. 1) To get fit enough to be able to run for a train and not feel like I was dying; 2) To lose enough weight that I didn’t need to go through the horror of shopping for new jeans; and 3) to get strong enough that I could make gun show jokes while flexing. I am a mature adult with serious health goals, ok? My personal Trainer, Matt, found them amusing but ultimately good goals to try and achieve and wrote them down in a much more professional way, I’m sure.
So it’s been almost a year of going to the gym at least once a week, and so far I haven’t achieved any of these goals. I still feel like I’m going to have a heart attack when I run to get a train. I have little muscles that only I can see or care about. I have discovered that men’s jeans are much more comfortable than women’s jeans. And I realised recently while hobbling around like an old lady after a gym session, that I don’t really care that much.
Don’t get me wrong, I still hate going to the gym. I don’t think I’m ever going to be the kind of person who doesn’t grumble and complain and try and get out of going and exercising whenever I have to go. I will always eat sugary things if they are offered. I’m not going to become a fitspo/paleo/crossfit drone. Don’t expect me to start showing off an amazing recipe for quinoa oatmeal that I swear by. I just have come to terms with the fact that even if I do hit those goals I probably never really enjoy going to the gym.
But that’s part of life, really. There are so many things that I have to do on a day-to-day basis that I don’t want to, why would going to the gym be any different? I get up and go to work, I pay bills, I eat proper food, going to the gym is just another entry on my list of Adult Responsibilities (as much as I wish it wasn’t).
I’m hoping that this change in mindset when it comes to exercise helps me to go to the gym on days that aren’t when I have a session with Matt and ultimately help me to hit those goals I made. Baby steps though.