|My biggest supporter…|
So yesterday, I had to vent. Get some stuff off my extra-strong chest. I grumbled and made use of a small amount of sarcasm. Today I’d like to balance that out. You know, just like I do both weight training and cardio (and stretching…I’m getting better at adding in the stretching now, but that’s an entirely other blog entry…hinthint…)
I have committed to training so much that I often feel I just ought to be committed. Most days are two-a-days, with each session ranging anywhere from thirty minutes to over an hour. That’s a pretty big chunk of time with four monkeys, two dogs, two cats, and one engineer needing my everpresent guidance and ordering-around. Yes, there’s naptimes, school times, work times in which to wedge my sweaty alone times, but often enough, I have to create that space when all these creatures are actually home. Which means I must depend on them to allow me to utilize that time. Hubby must tend to monkey spats and tattles, doggy doody (hehe), and any random need the smaller creatures may find they have while I smile, wave, and run away. Without Hubby, my long runs would be nonexistent. And there would be no foot rubs while I describe them in great detail to what I am sure is his sincere interest. (I’m sure his thoughts are more along the lines of “mmmm…beer” but I still like to pretend he’s enthralled with my breathing ease at mile nine.)
Running away is the best. I get to be all alone, no distractions. Their little legs are just too short to catch up with me. But (sigh) sometimes it is not to be…Sometimes, I must work out in the living room while the house is full up with others, just waiting for that moment when my breathing gets heavy…so they can ask me why the sky is blue, if I’ve seen the new commercial for that plastic toy that will break instantly upon being touched, or (my personal favorite) – “Hey, Mom…guess what?” It can totally suck to exercise at home…but it can also be the most rewarding work out of my week. It’s not every day that people are amazed at what I lift or how high I jump. Chalene Johnson does not peek out from the television screen to admire my pumps. My favorite, though, is when they enter the room in sweats and sneakers, wristbands and tank tops, and ask if they can join in. They tend to fade out when the steps get too fast, but they slide into a nearby chair and chat to me, compliment me, and encourage me in my sweaty endeavors.
I’m aware that the naysayers I wrote about yesterday exist in greater numbers, but their power is minimal when compared to my own personal cheerleading squad. And it extends beyond the M&M Estate. When I ran my ten miles last month in my hometown, my finish line included sisters, children, nieces, parents…even my parents’ neighbors. At least three times a week, I find personal messages on Facebook or hotmail, thanking me for inspiration and offering congrats on just my training. I haven’t even finished my race yet, and the cheers are pouring in. I wish I could get you all gold-plated megaphones or dollar-bill pompoms…but that will have to wait until my Beachbody business takes off just a tad bit more…All the same, I thank you from the bottom of my ever-fitter heart, because without you, I couldn’t keep on keepin’ on the way I do.