I've been doing the gym thing now for eight weeks now, going on nine. I'm one lazy bastard. I really and truly am. I am sedentary. So this actually is a big deal for me.
I wasn't fat going into this commitment, but I certainly was in poor shape. I was given a full work-up and learned I was as unhealthy as I had suspected I was. Very exciting. Validation at its worst. My measurements were taken and I was weighed, my endurance and flexibility catalogued. And interestingly they did this ultrasound-type thingy to measure my muscle/fat density. I was squishy.
There's the foundation program you start out with to get used to working out, get some sort of base ability, and then after that they work on building your muscle. This makes you more able to sustain the exercise to lose weight and such. I don't need to lose a lot, really. But I certainly wouldn't mind five fewer pounds on my frame.
I've noticed some differences. One, I'm stronger. My shoulders, thighs, arms and butt are looking firmer and mildly leaner. My sides are a little trimmer looking, but again, it's mostly increased firmness. My abdomen, though, is my cross to bear. The pebble in my shoe. The ant in my picnic. IBS, man. The constant bloat I sport means almost constant distention. And I know it's distention because a colonic deflates that bad boy and I get to experience normalcy for a short while and enjoy the lovely flatness of stomach happiness. Then I eat something that tastes good or I have a bad day and boom. Like there's a balloon in my tummy.
I'm signed up for six months. I have four and a half months left to go. I could have signed up for a year, but something stopped me. I think because eventually I'm going to scale us back a lot to prepare our finances for a baby. But who knows. Maybe I'll keep it up. Getting in better shape has been a 2012 goal of sorts. No reason I can't try to maintain it.
My other goal, my book, is at 45,000 words. I'm doing a lot of editing right now, reworking sentences, making foreshadowing choices, refining the story, expanding the dialogue. Sometimes it's difficult to plough forward, and to keep invested it's nice to improve on what you've got. Sometimes my editing choices give me ideas for the next chapter, too.
But oh mercy, it's a long road. Long, long, long. The idea of finished strikes me as this wild fantasy. I have no idea how that will feel. Will feel, not would feel. This is definitely happening.