Meathwoman's Diary: Walking the Green Mile to the gym
Recently, I went back to the gym after a long hiatus. I thought a bank holiday Monday post Paddy's Day would be an ideal time to revisit my fitness goals on a 'free' day.
That was, of course, until footage of deliriously cheery Leprechaun hat-clad parade-goers with pints in hand seemed to gloat at me from my TV screen on the very day I was trying to be 'good' in preparation for my big gym day ahead.
Daytime TV chefs were on every channel you flicked to, showcasing Guinness stews, soda bread and creamy Irish seafood dishes, meanwhile the carnival atmosphere scenes in Irish bars throughout the world infiltrated my social media like the biggest FOMO campaign ever.
Suddenly thoughts of surely the Irish are born to party, have a good time and embrace this day of patriotism ran through my impressionable psyche.
Wouldn't I be just letting the nation down by not joining in? Surely Tuesday would be a better day to get this health buzz kicking? Isn't walking the new gym?
I mean what could go wrong, endeavouring to start a healthy living regime on the biggest party day of the year!? Lots it seems, however I persevered and stuck to my plan.
Walking out from my car through the building up the stairs felt like the green mile, watching fit looking Lycra clad gym bunnies with snazzy water bottles and Fit Bit watches sprint on ahead of me. Having dipped my toe in a class a couple of months earlier resulting in being practically immobile for four days after, I knew this wasn't going to be pretty. Being on a tail end of a three week head cold meant that I might not even make it through.
As I walked through the doors and took my spot, a white board listed with exercises from squats, lunges, curls and rows stood before me, not to mention the spine tingling sight of dumb bells, bikes and kettlebell weights. Just go at your own pace were words only uttered through the mind when the instructor told us to "partner up." Oh god no.
With two shared exercises in each round, you had to wait until your buddy was finished to switch over. So not only did I have to try and not die on the gym floor, I had to try and keep up with a gym pro who was obliged to wait until I had finished the set.
What did I do to deserve this? It could have been a ground open up and swallow me 45 mins if it wasn't for a very understanding and patient 'fitness pal' and a friendly gym, instead it was a good kickstart into a healthier lifestyle and kick up somewhere else to not to leave it as long between gym sessions!