Midwest Olympics

I was going to keep this a deep, dark, dirty secret, but since one of my friends and my sister bravely wrote on their blogs of their Olympic efforts to fight the war of the bulge, I grudgingly decided to enlist and write about my efforts, too.

Efforts, mind you, not necessarily results. We keep our perspectives low here at Yarn Over. Uh-uh, no gold medals given out here. (I suspect that's why you read my blog. Hearing other people's pathetic whinging makes you feel so much better about your own life. I need that sort of therapy for myself. Do you know anyone more hopeless than me? Wait - don't answer that.)

Anyway, about three weeks ago I decided to join a local fitness club. Why, do you ask (and thank you for asking, as though the reasons weren't obvious . . .)? Why did I plunk down a huge chunk of cash, enough to purchase a ticket to Hawaii? The answer may not be what you may expect.

They have child care.



(By the way, that blur, as usual, is my daughter. From now on, just assume every photograph of a blur is my daughter. Maybe I should start calling her "Banna-blur" instead of "Banna-Boo".)

They'll even watch this child of terror. See, isn't he scary? No? Hmmm, perhaps I should put up a picture of his diapers . . . oh, wait, this is a family-friendly blog. Scratch that idea. . . . He's a true terror, I warn you. He can sleep anyone to pieces.

For an hour-and-a-half of freedom, I would even exercise. I'm that desperate.

Although I prefer to view my life through irony and witticism, I am really quite happy with this arrangement. It has the benefits of extreme multitasking, something which greatly appeals to me, the ADD mom.

For instance, I can exercise, provide entertainment for my children, re-charge my sanity batteries, watch TV, listen to music, take a shower (after the exercise, of course, not while exercising), chat with friends who are also exercising, and - - - -

- - - - do my nails. Isn't that great? I paint my nails, then let them dry while I work out on the elliptical machine or the treadmill. I don't have to worry about little children grabbing my hands when my nails are wet!

I haven't figured out yet how to knit and exercise, but perhaps that's a good thing, as my balance on the treadmill isn't the greatest. I can just envision the headlines, "Local Mom Fatally Skewers Herself with Knitting Needle While Walking".

So, my Olympic goals are these:
1) go to the gym at least three days a week - check, been doing that faithfully. Every time I think to myself, "Awww, it'd just be easier to stay home", I'm reminded that I'd have to stay home with my kids, too. Then I get up and go to the gym.
2) exercise hard at least an hour - check, because if I try to pick up the kids any sooner than that they have a fit and declare they're not ready to leave the nursery yet. "Mommy, go exercise some more!" sounds very strange coming from the mouth of a two year old.
3) eventually be able to run a mile without having a hernia or dying of treadmill collisions - still working on that goal.
Here's what I envision myself looking like:

Here's what I actually look like:

(Only for you, dear friends, would I take such a photo. For you, dignity and self-respect is of no importance.)