dance, excercise, general, health, mental health, wellbeing

Getting into fitness

So after spending the last couple of months of 2013 and most of 2014 working ‘on the inside’, after going through challenging times and pretty much ‘loosing’ myself, I decided 2015 was going to be the year I worked on the outside. Having a teenager, a child with autism and a pre-schooler, it’s easy to get lost in a world of challenges faced by each, and forget about yourself. It’s now May and, I haven’t done much to change, except dye my hair ‘Blackcurrant’, updated my wardrobe for summer and got another tat. I want to be slim, toned and healthy. Only problem is I hate gyms, I hate them with a passion.

I joined one after having Jessica, and went most nights for about a month, then made an excuse not to go back. I was way too busy on a night-time, mainly watching tv and eating jaffa cakes.

I’ve hoped that one day I would perhaps jump out of bed one morning with a whole new mindset, a one like that of a health freak, or a gym bore as I call super healthy people. I’m not saying gym bore because I’m nasty, but because I’m jealous. I want to get as excited over a cross trainer as I do over a doughnut.

I’ve hoped I would run downstairs, throw a cucumber, a carrot, some strawberries and some skimmed milk into the blender, throw on some leggings and a t-shirt, drop my youngest off at pre school then go for a run along the beach. I have actually been waiting for that day to happen, convinced one day it will. I’m a realist now, it won’t.

My hubby is into fitness, and has often offered me encouragement. We both started doing the absolutely ridiculous aptly named ‘Insanity’ at the same time about a year ago. He spent 20 minutes in the back room following the instructions of Sean T on a tv screen. I tried to do the same but was literally gasping for breath after just 30 seconds of sprinting on the spot. And then there’s the jumps, which turn into push ups then squats all in a second. This is neither invigorating, enjoyable or pleasant with wobbly bits and little to absolutely no sense of coordination.

I heard about Clubbercise a few weeks ago. The new fitness trend which seems to be taking off rather rapidly and I decided wanted to give it a whirl. It’s still taken me a few weeks to build up the courage to go along to a class, which I decided to do after finding out a friend was going.

I’ll admit, I did almost back out and give it a miss, but I decided to go along with the attitude that if I don’t like it, I’ll not go back. However, I loved it.

What’s not to love about being in a dark room, lit up with disco lights, neon gym wear and glow sticks? I had possibly the best hour in a very long time, dancing along to 90s anthems such as the classic Entrance hit ‘Set you Free’, to the Bruno Mars catchy tune ‘Uptown Funk’, and the best bit, the class wound down with an up tempo version of ‘Man in the Mirror’ as we all sang along whilst stretching. The whole room clapped and cheered as the class came to an end, and I left feeling like I’d been to a party, not a fitness class.

I came home full of energy, went to bed full of energy, woke up full of energy and gave the house a bit of a much-needed blitz whilst my hubby took the kids out. I’ve discovered I’ve never not been able to do a proper class, or do a gym sesh, I’ve just had a serious case of ‘I can’t be arsedness’

It’s monday afternoon now and I’m feeling eager to go along to another class tonight. I want to do as many a week as possible so plan to alternate between the two groups so I’m flying solo tonight, being way braver than usual and going on my own to another class. Wearing my new funky blue trainers to release some dance fix endorphins whilst burning off the cals. And I’ve already prepared the salmon salad for tea.

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