It is common knowledge that I really hate the gym. Ever since I started running, my resistance to the gym got more intense, because I felt that I did not need it.
Of course I was wrong. It has been almost six months, yes, some of my clothes fit, but what about my arms when I poke them? That's my karma because whenＩwas much younger, I would play with and jiggle my mother's arms, right in the middle of her sermon (of course, not to me, or she would not have let me touch her!)
And now I am just waiting for the day Ava is mature enough to realize her mother's arms can be a source of amusement/entertainment, and so I have decided to take concrete steps so that day will forever be avoided (umm...lipo from THE Belo Group?)
SO! I enrolled myself in Slimmers' World, which is attempting to revive its "The Place To Be In The 80's-90's" (for the gym buffs, for the party goers, was it Faces?) but my reasons were different: a rainy day wherein I can't use the road to run... but I guess, I have not made full use of the gym's equipment.
The very reason why I hate going to the machines in the gym is that I don't know how to use them. And yes, it's my pride that stops me. I feel stupid going around, scouting for a possible trainer and trying to send brain waves to let them know I'm in the dark when it comes to those machines. Of course, those trainers give me the look that means "no pay, no teach", so I just totally give up on them, and promise myself to just ask my husband who loves those machines to give me tips.
Well, good thing my husband had free guest passes for the weekends at his gym. And so this morning, he and I visited Eastwood, and yes... I conceded saying their gym is newer, modern and the equipment is just state of the art compared to the modest place to be during the 80's-90's. I did some 30 minutes of cross training, from treadmill to bike to arm bicycle and cross trainer) and then my husband was just ever so happy to teach me a few of the machines. He was in his element. In fairness, I did enjoy them. They made me feel a little empowered, and my shoulders, arms, abs and back were challenged.
At least for my gym, I won't look that dumb trying to figure them out. My husband taught me a few tips that I can brag about. But I do look forward to my visit to my husband's gym, too. Though he may never understand my passion for running, I may begin to understand his penchant for weight training.
I just hope my arms will get leaner before my daughter discovers the joy of jiggling them. (I'm sorry, Mom, for all my faults...:))
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