Fitness

It’s my first trip back to the YMCA. The Guppins is 18 months old. I’d heard about the
Y’s child minding program. It’s amazing. You can drop your baby off — over 6 months,
under three years.

Not for that long; that’s how old your kid needs to be.

(Not that I was thinking of doing that…)

(Okay, I was thinking that on some level, obviously.)

It’s for up to two hours while you work out, have a shower (a what?), sauna (you’re
kidding me, right?), engage in brain/body activity. Nice kids’ area, three or four child
minders, not that many kids. It’s like a miracle to me. I drop her off, she’s thrilled, and
it is dawning on me…the feeling of not dragging my ass to the Y, like I did for so many
wasted youthful years, but running there.

I let out a deep chuckle.

I get on a stair climber thing. Eager.

First thought:

My, there are so many young, skinny models here. In fact, almost every woman here is a
young, skinny model.

Second thought:

How do I use this fricking thing? Hmm, what are those machines with TV sets? Is that a
new thing?

I spot a new mother and baby coming into the Y.I have regrettably chosen one of those
machines on display to the foyer and front window of the building, me in my non-work-
out clothes, non–running shoes, non-physique. I avoid eye contact.

Hmm, isn’t that baby a little young for the daycare program?

Huff puff.

The mother walks past me, baby in portable car seat (I remember those).

Huff puff.

Oh my God... She’s...she’s putting the car seat down next to the StairMaster (the kind
with a TV)…she’s getting on the StairMaster...

No wait…

She’s getting off the StairMaster — the car seat just got dinged by the foot thing when
she started working out…will it wake up? Did my baby sleep that soundly? Baby moves
slightly but remains sleeping.

Okay, she’s back on.

She’s flipping channels.

She looks like hell.

Unwashed hair, baggy face (sorry, Mommy).

WHY ISN’T SHE AT HOME SLEEPING??

I watch her flip through the channels. Wonder what she’ll settle on: news (nope), HGTV
(bit of a gander), a baby show (she settles for a sec, flips the channel). I remember my
baby book telling me that if I found myself watching daytime TV (aka Oprah), it might be
a sign of depression…

Well, apparently, NOT WHILE YOU’RE WORKING OUT!

I begin to grin. A full-on huge smile splits across my face. I don’t know why, but I am
suddenly filled with insane joy. I have done that. Maybe I didn’t go to the Y to work out,
but I did do housework, two years of taxes…I did anything, anything to stay in myself,
to recognize myself, to hold on to what and how I used to be. Even if it meant I NEVER
RESTED.

Since I have learned, you sleep when they sleep. If you can, when you can. Sleep when
they sleep.

I keep smiling. I am so happy to be me right now. Even with the extra fifteen pounds.
I may be way out of shape, but I survived the first year. I SURVIVED. And it feels like
sooo long ago.

-Drama Mama