Yep, that title pretty much sums it up. I exercised tonight and it sucked. I would like to think today is the first day of consistently working out but to put this in perspective for you, I haven’t worked out this much in 6 years. So to say I’m taking baby steps is an understatement as these are more along the lines of fetus steps.
Why? Because I worked out a combined total of 11 minutes.
But to my defense, I didn’t have shoes on and I suffer from horrible foot cramps, especially in my right foot. Sure, these would probably go away if I consistently worked out but again, fetus steps.
The First 5 Minutes
I found the perfect workout video on Amazon Prime. It was Sweatin’ Into the Oldies with Richard Simmons. Ok, I kid, I kid. After searching kickboxing. I found a beginner’s kickboxing. PERFECT! If you want to check it out for yourself, it’s included in Amazon Prime or just $3 if you aren’t a member:
By now my 12-year-old came in to watch the debacle that was about to take place. Great, this is the kid that has an hour and a half soccer practice, 3 days a week then 2-4 games on the weekend. He’s the perfect picture of athleticism and now he’s going to watch me kill myself, thanks to an Amazon Prime video.
“Weave and bob. Weave and bob,” kickboxing lady begins.
“Wait, aren’t we warming up with inhale/exhale?” I asked her. Sure, weaving and bobbing wasn’t too hard, but this is a beginners video so I want a beginners warm-up, somewhere along the lines of a corpse pose.
“Punch, pivot, punch, return. Punch, pivot, punch return,” kickboxing lady says.
“I can’t keep up,” I whine. “So many steps.”
By now the 9-year-old walked in. Equally athletic as the 12-year-old.
“Come on mom! Punch that ninja!” C yells at me.
“I can’t. Stop, you guys are being so tough,” I protest.
The Last 6 Minutes
Kickboxing lady starts into a side kick on each side. By now I want to quit and so I handle this uncomfortable situation as I do all situations, with humor.
“It’s like I’m at a ho’down,” I say as I begin to kick each leg out on each side while pushing both hands down in front of my chest at the same time.
“Mom! Stop,” P yells.
I get back into the groove of the workout, trying to stay serious. 30 seconds later I grow more and more frustrated. This was supposed to be beginners. This isn’t for beginners. Obviously I needed to specify that my fitness level was more along the lines of work 40 hours, commute 7.5 hours a week, blog every chance I get and lastly, drink wine.
“You’re the devil!” I scream at the t.v. C just laughs.
Alas, I had to stop. I could have gone longer but my right foot began to cramp and I swear to you I’m not lying. When I start getting spasms in the foot, I gotta stop. But I did realize I need actual tennis shoes that have support. I haven’t bought tennis shoes since 2012 and my Nike’s have 0 support.
So now I sit on the sofa, typing this out while my sons sit next to me. We are watching tiny houses and eating Samoans. I mean Samoas. We aren’t eating the people of Samoa.
“Mom, have you contacted your dealer?”
“No, I’ll do that tonight.”
My dealer he is referring to is 3′ tall, wears a green vest and can be found on many grocery store corners. She’ll even come to my door if I ask her to.