Tag: gym

Now that I’m no longer physically aching every minute of every day, I made a decision.
A grown-up decision.
A health-oriented, responsible decision.

I decided to go to the gym to rebuild my stamina.

Let me be very clear about something:
I hate the gym.

I am a 4’10”, short, round, senior woman. I do not look like the gym loves me. I do not look like I love the gym. The gym and I have never been in a committed relationship. At best, we are polite acquaintances who actively avoid eye contact.

But decide I did.

So I went to the “NO JUDGMENT” gym.

Have you ever been there? Because I can assure you—people are judging.

Okay. Fine.
It was me.
I am people.

That said, there were quite a few seniors at the No Judgment Gym, which helped. There were also quite a few young people. While I was not judging (I was absolutely observing), I noticed something important:

The young people were in far better physical shape than the seniors.

BUT—and this is key—the seniors were having way more fun.

They stopped and talked to each other. About working out. About hating it. About the weather. Possibly about grandchildren, medications, and who had knee surgery last year. I’m sure they discussed other topics, but that’s what I caught.

I also noticed people with very obvious physical challenges still working out. Again, mostly seniors. And I found myself oddly inspired watching their determination. They weren’t trying to be impressive. They were just… showing up.

The first time I went, I walked on the treadmill for 15 minutes and went home like I’d run a marathon and deserved a parade.

Now?
I’m up to 15 minutes on the recumbent elliptical and 15 minutes on the recumbent bike. That’s a full 30 minutes, which also provides ample time for people-watching and internal commentary.

I plan to do more equipment and maybe even free weights. Eventually.
But the poison of chemo still lives rent-free in my muscles and back, so we’re negotiating.

Here’s the truth:
I am slow.
I sweat a LOT.
I have zero speed on any machine.
No one has spoken to me yet.

I know. Shocking.

To be fair, I don’t always give off a “Hi! Please chat with me while I gasp for oxygen!” vibe.

Still—it’s helping. I feel more confident. More relaxed. I might even lose some weight. Or at least earn the right to eat snacks without guilt.

So despite my many misgivings, my official judgment is this:

JUST. DO. IT. (Ooops, don’t tell Nike I said that!)

Slowly. Sweaty. Judging quietly.
But do it anyway.