In regards to getting my ass to the gym the following image in no way encourages or inspires me:

Not even in the slightest. I was ‘ripped’ once upon a time. It involved youth, nervous energy and a level of poverty I hope to never endure again. In fact, it is images like these that keep me out of the gym. I want no part of the hate your body machine. I love my body. Love, love, love it, us, her, me, whatever.

And yet, I joined a fucking gym this week. Why? Because I am inspired by images like this:

I want to live to be a wise elderly woman. I want to see everything change so many times it’s back to the way it was before even I was born. I want to be around for a whole lot of ‘I love you’s and ‘I told you so’s. I could give a fuck about changing my shape. What I’m more worried about is my long term health and, more immediately, my sanity.

I am so very grateful to be in grad school. So very very grateful. All of the debt is worth it. All of the schedule juggling and power negotiating with the kids, the late nights and barely getting by budget is totally worth an advanced degree in a subject that I feel passionate about. No complaints. My degree is not, however, worth my health.

Have you seen this infographic yet:

“Sitting down all day is going to kill you!” started flitting through my media stream just before finals started last semester. And I felt every word of it. The amount of sitting I was doing to get through all of the reading and writing required of me was not good for me. Hours and hours on my butt. Not good physically or mentally, which then leads to an emotional response of fuck, this sucks.

So in an attempt at sanity, (ie, not doing the same thing and expecting a different result) I joined the gym down the street from my apt. They have a lot of group dance classes: Salsa, African Beats, Zumba that I’m looking forward to. Another side affect of being in grad school, I have less time to go out to dance. I love to dance, and when I was working, I would get out to a club twice a week or so. It’s too hard with the course load and the kids, so now, I’m going to go dance in a gym at 10am and skip the gin and tonic.

This semester I don’t have any in-person classes, it’s all on my own time or on-line. My schedule is my own and I’m making sure my butt gets out to recess at least once a day. That’s how I’m thinking of the gym: recess. I’m building in a morning and afternoon recess. Just to stay sane and just to stick around for as long as I can.