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Fanny Packs & Sticky Buns

I've begun to make a concerted effort and have started to hit the gym on a regular basis. In fact, during my recent vacation to Jamaica, I strapped on my fanny pack (which was actually owned by my dad back in the late eighties), slipped on my brand new Yoga pants - even though I've never done Yoga, glided into my aerated Puma gym shoes and went to the workout room.
When I arrived, the tiny room was packed. Every machine was taken and most of the fit patrons were wearing some of the trendiest outfits I've seen around the gym circuit. In fact, looking down at my retro fanny pack I started to realize that I was horribly outdated. I guess that's what happens when the only thing that experiences the pain of a gym visit every month is my Capitol One credit card. I haven't been in great shape since my daughter was a year old and now she's eight. So this is the year I am really giving it my best shot to get back on the program and maybe back into a pair of spandex leggings - oh, did those go out of style too?
So, back to Jamaica - I managed to find some cardio machines and even broke a sweat - probably because the humidity was pretty thick, but I'll take sweat any way I can get it. At least I was able to burn off a few hundred calories before I put away my fanny pack and sat my fanny on a lounge chair for the next five hours as I proceeded to read while my husband chased the kids in the pool - oh how I love it that he loves to play like a school kid while I can relax in the sun, that is until my son summons me to escort him to the bathroom - which pretty much happened like clock work every hour on the hour.
Back to the gym. I managed to workout four out of the seven days we were there and even played tennis for what I think was about 25 minutes before I almost passed out from heat exhaustion. Then finished the week sipping iced teas, sampling my kids' banana smoothies and completing four books (Eat, Pray, Love; Second Chance; Best Friends and For One More Day).
When I returned home, I actually went to the gym the very next day! I was so proud of myself and grabbed my fanny pack again despite the fact that it was an obvious fashion faux paus and I zipped over to Equinox at 4pm - a perfect time of day since barely anyone was there. First stop was the treadmill and as I attempted to start jogging, one of the cleaning women decided to spray the equipment right next to me with windex - causing me to practically choke as I attempted my sprint. Okay, maybe it wasn't a sprint - at that point I was walking briskly.
Then I looked up at the television monitors and my choices were pretty limited - sports, CNN or the Food Channel. Hmmm, the food channel seemed interesting - they were doing the show where pastry chefs compete against each other for the best cartoon cake. I was amazed by the workmanship on the Scooby Doo cake and was worried that the Popeye and Olive Oil cake might collapse, but thankfully the cake survived and the Scooby Doo chef won the bake off. And I had finished 20 minutes on the treadmill.
Next stop - the stair master. I would have preferred the stationary bike but the stairmaster was closer to the TV featuring Bobby Flay's Throwdown show so I stayed in the same section and became hooked and hungry. I'd never seen the show before but of course, I decided to watch an entire episode devoted to sticky buns. Baking them, glazing them and devouring them. It's enough to make a person famished. As I stepped up and down and read the captions for the sticky bun episode I tried to get motivated by my iPod songs from the eighties and finally finished the next half of my workout.
My remaining time at the gym consisted of leg machines and free weights but by that point, the only thing I could think of were those damn sticky buns. And so, after an hour long workout, me and my fanny pack left the gym and hit Cinnabon...okay - lucky for my fanny there isn't a Cinnabon in my neighborhood - instead, I came home, cooked up a tasty barbecue and enjoyed a little Lemon Meringue pie. So much for the workout. I guess the next time I hit the gym I should stay away from the Food Channel.
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Posted in: Blog, Undercover Mom on 07/02/2007

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