“I’m not a turd.”

I assured my son that not only was I not “a turd” as he thought I had proclaimed, but that I also wasn’t deterred. He stood next to me as I examined myself, staring at my latest purchase — a full-length mirror — wearing my second latest purchase, vintage overalls. Size medium. They were tight (these are not skinny jean overalls), and they wouldn’t button on the sides. I double-checked the label to make sure the size was correct. I’ve never not fit into medium overalls before, but then again I haven’t worn overalls since college. A psychological blow like this would usually send me face first into a bottle of wine, but there were two things to consider:

  1. My kids. I promised myself when I became a mom that I would not project my crazy body image crap onto them. Just like arguing with my husband, this was something for the “behind closed doors” category. And there, both my kids were, standing next to me. Deep breath.
  2. Today also happens to be the day I started yet another plan to transform myself: BodyBoss. It’s one of those seemingly brilliant one-word-that-should-be-two-words fitness methods that targets women like myself in our Facebook feeds. Hook, line, and sinker.

It’s day one of my 16-week journey, and my ill-fitting overalls came at just the right time. I’m still optimistic that I can complete all 16 weeks, even though today kicked my butt when I quite literally couldn’t kick my own. One of the HIIT circuit exercises was butt kicks and I could. Not. Do it. My best looked more like a hobbling running-in-place motion. Like I’d been clubbed in the shins with a tire iron by my kidnapper while trying to escape, tried to keep going, but froze up in a mix of shock, pain, and fear. So basically how I always look and feel at the gym.

As with any other overwhelming life change, I just need to take it one day at a time. I’m holding myself accountable, but I also told my kids as I shrugged in my Liberty’s, “It’s no big deal. When I put these on in November, they’ll fit.” So I’m now accountable to them as they look forward to seeing me dressed like a farmer (they don’t get fashion yet). And now I’m accountable to you. I won’t post on Facebook every time I check into the gym or complete a training circuit. But you might here from me when I’m particularly proud (or ashamed) of myself… or when I’m feeling a little like a turd.

 

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I’m Lindsey. I’m Disgusting…

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I share earbuds with total strangers at the gym. OK I really “borrow” them from the lost and found when I forget my own. But then I started to worry: Can I get herpes from this? Because I’m convinced I’m going to get an STD at my gym. Not because my gym is dirty. In fact, it’s super clean and almost spa-like. It’s more about karma and the fact that I can’t believe I avoided them in college (no matter what you might have heard, no kidding, there was quite the nasty rumor going around, and I know who started it, you know who you are).

On a particular day when my post-workout euphoria shifted into post-workout paranoia, I Googled “can you get herpes from sharing earbuds?” It showed up on not one, but several no-fly, fear-mongering listicles including:

According to BuzzFeed, my nasty habit can result in “infections, boils, or pustules.” Ew, ew, and/or ew. So no more shared headphones. If I forget my own, I’ll have to sing out loud to myself (sorry, elliptical neighbors). But onto the quite literally burning question: Can you get an STD at the gym? 

The first story that popped up in my research from the New York Times told of a potentially deadly staph infection you can possibly pick up on the mats. Of course, my eyes skipped over that at first and went straight to New HPV Warnings: You Can Get It at the Gym. Now, you can’t believe everything you read on the interwebs, but since I discovered this story on a lesser known site, I have read similar findings from what I consider trusted media outlets. It’s enough to give me yet another reason to avoid spin classes. And short shorts.

Also, when I started to type “Can I get an STD at …” into my search window, the following searches tried to automatically fill in my blank:

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So there goes all those foam parties I had on the books.

Going Outside My Comfort Zone

I resisted any New Year’s resolutions this year, as I’ve learned with pregnancy and kids that over-planning and too many expectations only leads to frustration and disappointment.

Photo via Speedo.com. I don't do swim selfies. Plus, do you really think I'd post a pic of myself, pregnant in a swimsuit in January? And I did purchase a pink Speedo Swim cap, which I love:)
Photo via Speedo.com. I don’t do swim selfies. Plus, do you really think I’d post a pic of myself, pregnant in a swimsuit in January? And I did purchase a pink Speedo Swim cap, which I love:)

Right before I was about to start a diet (ordered organic meal replacement shakes from Amazon and everything), I found out I was pregnant with my second child. SUPER excited for the baby, but the baby weight on top of my already fleshier self was hard to swallow. Of course, I’m not going to try to lose weight when I’m pregnant. Add that I only seem to crave complex carbohydrates and sugar, and I’m a gestational diabetes diagnosis just waiting to happen.

So what can I do about this? Well, now that the first trimester nausea and fatigue are subsiding, I can exercise. My gym doesn’t currently offer prenatal yoga classes, but it does have a pool. Swimming is such great exercise, pregnant or not, so I decided to give it a try for the first time ever. In January. In a swimsuit. Pregnant. (In the “she looks like she’s pregnant, but not enough that I feel comfortable asking” phase, mind you.)

I’m happy to report that I swam laps for the first time on Sunday and have come out the other side without any permanent scars, emotional or otherwise. Not to say it wasn’t totally intimidating. A weekend afternoon was probably not the best time to try laps for the first time. Each lane had at least one swimmer already, which meant I had to share. The lifeguard very patiently explained to me the difference between splitting a lane and circle swimming. I’m not sure why she pointed me to fast lane as I told her I was new to this, but that’s where a spot was open so that’s where I got my feet wet, so to speak. I wasn’t five minutes into my workout (my meager interpretation of the breaststroke) when my lane partner hopped out and moved down a lane. We were splitting and not circling so I was pretty sure I wasn’t in his way. But,still, it made me even more self-conscious than I already was.

So, this morning, I Googled “lap swimming etiquette” and learned a couple of things.

1. When sharing a lane, any stroke other than freestyle is frowned upon, as you can accidentally kick your lane partner. I don’t remember kicking him, but I never remember kicking my husband and I apparently do it every night in my sleep.

2. Swimmers are possessive of their gear, even when borrowed from the pool. I may have grabbed and used a kickboard at the end of our lane. He may have gotten pissed.

3.  Some Canadian dude said in one article that everyone pees in lap pools. I really hope this is only true in Canada.

So next time, I will have to get over my fear of freestyle. And wait for a space to open up in one of the slow lanes. And try not to kick anyone or steal anyone’s stuff. Swimming is not a resolution, but I plan on sticking to it. Like all new things, it wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.

Have you tried something lately outside of your comfort zone?