Lucky for me, my Hubby never reads my blog. So I can freely mention here that he was right and I was wrong, and the chances of his reading it and gloating, are virtually nil.
Because this last week, I have discovered just how correct he was.
[Spoiler alert: references to early morning starts and gym equipment are imminent…]
So a couple of years back, I joined Hubby at his Krav Maga training. Fast forward to 2016, and I’d passed a couple of gradings and was happy with how things are going… but then the instructor decides to change from Saturday morning classes to Friday night ones. Problem. Cherubs aren’t quite so biddable on Friday nights.
So I “stepped away”.
And although yes, that meant more time for writing (YES!!!) it also meant that without something keeping me motivated to exercise, I… well… didn’t.
So a couple of weeks back, I finally let Hubby convince me to join his gym.
Me. 42 years old. Never joined a gym before in my life.
Scared doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt. I figured that there was going to be pain. Lots of pain. And I’m kinda averse to that idea.
And I was right. There was, indeed, pain – but it was manageable. And you know what? I enjoyed it. I went back, giving myself more pain. Barely manageable this time, but I survived. And now? Well, let’s not say the phrase ‘gym junkie’ – but I understand the attraction. I’m up at 4.30 and at the gym by 5 past 5; leaving by ten to 6 to be home at 6.10am, getting the kids and myself ready for school and work. It’s do-able. And I’m LOVING it! Hubby said I would.
And you know what?
He was right. Just don’t tell him! And have a great week, dear reader 🙂