Fewer things in life give me as much joy as the joy I get from a workout session. I always hear people moan and bitch when they have to go to gym or do some work out or other. And I honestly feel pity for them, especially when they appear to be hugely in need of a workout (do not excuse the pun please, hahaha). Luckily I do not and I have never had that kind of problem. You see as much as I am not a gym fanatic, going to gym daily, for weird long hour sessions, my approach to gym or a workout is very healthy, easy and carefree. 4 times a week maximum, for an hour tops.
Whether I am practicing yoga, Pilates, getting up early with Billy Blanks for some Taebo, moving sensually but energetically to some Zumba in my living room or cycling in the open air, the thrill of a workout is the same for me. Even some old fashioned walking and pumping iron at the gym just seal the deal. I even enjoy the flight of stairs from my ride in the basement to my office at the second floor……however many times I have to do it in a day. The jury is still out however, regarding running or joggging, whatever you want to call it!
Spring is here and summer is just around the corner and along with that heat comes some serious fatigue for me, which I normally fend off by working out and boy does it work. I have been lucky to have never had to go to gym in efforts to lose weight. I have always done it for the sheer pleasure of it and some, body toning of course. No, I’m lying, within my first 3 months at boarding school in 1996, I ate badly and ended up putting on massive weight; such a huge booty and round cheeks I had never seen and I detested the way I looked and the heaviness I felt. And because of my height, I resolved to never subject myself to feeling like that ever again and thereon began years of healthy living; healthy eating and exercising. I am not a calorie counting junkie, but I make wise food choices and generally incorporate good habits in my cooking, like peeling off the chicken skin before it even hits the skillet, ALWAYS.
Nothing gives me more “workout purpose” than to want to achieve and sculpt me some lovely taut “Mrs. Obama” arms or well muscled calves; did I mention the hard abs? I am even more than ecstatic now that, 6 months after giving birth to my healthy bouncy ball of sunshine (for which I had only gained 11kg), I have been at my pre-baby weight for some time, without having had to lift a finger. Could it be good genes or just plain old luck, where pregnancy happily landed on a healthy and fit body and proceeded on unnoticed? I don’t know, you be the judge.
I started gym last week Tuesday (3 days shy of my son’s 6th month) and once again I was left beaming from ear to ear after a 40 minute session. The thrill of that 20 minute run on the treadmill (I decided to give running a go and enjoyed it) and the soreness of my biceps, pectoris major, calves and gluteus after lifting those weights is just inexplicable.
The bounce in my step and sway of my bum, as I leave the gym? Priceless.