Bench Press, Anyone? part one

It has now been nearly 4 weeks since the big engagement. At this point I feel that nearly every aspect of the wedding has been discussed in some form or another. We have checked out a few places for a reception, we have considered the size of the guest list (probably unrealistically short) we have argued about where to have a ceremony, we have gotten some clues on places to get a good deal on wedding dresses, we have talked about rings, flowers, music, food, photos, colors, etc. But there is one thing that I have been carefully avoiding talking about, or even thinking about, but it has crept into the corner of my mind, then I push it out but it sticks to the edges. It seems that there is this expectation that I should at least consider losing a few pounds before the whole event is recorded for all of posterity on film or video or whatever the latest costly technology is. Not that Kristen has said a word, or John, or anyone else, not even my mother. If I am honest I guess I would have to say that this expectation is coming from somewhere in me. I don't know why. Does anyone really notice the bride's mother? I think this particular idea has come to me from 2 places. One is thinking about photographers and photos, because everytime I see myself in a photo I feel like I am looking at an imposter. I honestly don't feel like I look that big in a mirror. Never mind that the scale backs up the photographic evidence. The idea of being photographed standing next to teeny-tiny Kristen is frightening.

The other thing is that I know that I do not have the best eating or exercise habits. In the past the best way to control my weight has been by exercising. In college I used to run and exercise enough that I could eat whatever I wanted. In fact, when John and I went to one of those engaged encounter weekends we had to answer a question about what we admired most about each other, and John said he admired how much I could eat without gaining weight! But somewhere along the last 25 years I have lost my will to exercise enough. It makes me sad, really, because I used to really love to work out. Even after I had all 3 of my kids I used to go to the gym about 4 or 5 days a week, plus run, ski, and hike (and swim in the summer). I think a big part of it was that it was my main source of socializing during those years when I worked at home taking care of kids. There were years where a few of my friends and I all skied together in a program called "women on Wed." We would have a group lesson in the morning for a couple of hours and then after lunch just ski. This was at a newly reopened and relatively unknown ski area and was never crowded. We were free to yodel or do other goofy things and it was a blast. There were a couple of summers that John and I had a lot of fun playing in the park and rec tennis groups. And I remember actually looking forward to going to the aerobics classes at the one gym in town,the Fitness Depot (yes it was really next to a train station).
Three or four of my good friends and I used to go pretty regularly to some of the step classes, as well as using the stair-climbers and weights. We dubbed ourselves "moms of steel" and had a great time working out together. Sue was a single mom and very strong and tough and had a wicked sense of humor. Judy was an obsessive biker and cross country skier and was very slim. She was the only one of us whoever wore the thong leotard, insisting it was more comfortable because she had a flat butt. Mary was a hoot, who no matter what she was doing always had visable cleavage. On purpose. She actually bought a sports push-up bra - and wore it to work out in! The gym membership was small enough that there usually weren't more than 10 other people there at the same time we were there, so we could be loud and silly together. It could be literally 10 below zero and we would still be hopping out of our cars in our garishly bright leotards (after all it was the early 90's) in time for the early class. Two of us would be toting babies as well, still in their jammies. We used to really motivate each other to work out hard and then after showering in the locker room our arms would be so tired we could barely hang onto the blow driers. At one point the gym announced it was going to hold a bench press competition and advertise in surrounding town's gyms as well. I decided that it would be pretty cool to try that, and what the heck, I had 3 and a half weeks to work on benching, something I had been interested in but never tried because the state cops who worked out there were always hogging the bench. I decided one of my goals was to get good enough at the bench press that one of the guys would ask me to spot him. I had one friend, Barb, who was a physiology professor at the college there helping me out with different types of workouts. She was also entering the contest. We would work up to the heaviest weight we could bench, and then work down again with lighter weights, doing as many reps as we could at each weight. The hardest part was not laughing when Sue made faces at me while spotting me. One day one of the state troopers was working out and asked me to spot him on the bench! I was nervous about being able to spot the kind of weight he was lifting, but luckily I managed not to let it crush him. So the day of the contest the "moms of steel" were there to root for me and Barb. John was out of town, too bad because he was really excited about me being in that contest. I am not exactly sure what it was about me doing the bench press competition that got him so pumped, but he has always had a thing about women in action movies so maybe it had something to do with this being the closest he was going to get to one. Anyways, they weighed us all in and then put the heaviest half of the group in the heavyweights, and the lightest half of the group in lightweight division. I was the lightest one in the heavyweight group, and Barb was the heaviest one in the lightweights. The biggest woman in my group weighed about 45 pounds more than I did, and was from another gym. We each got to try 3 lifts. This is tricky, because once you try a weight you can't lift you can't try that weight or heavier anymore, so you want to start light, but not so heavy that you tire yourself out, or so light that it is not a winning weight if you can't lift heavier. The most I had ever lifted was 123. So I started with 120, then did 122, and then did 125 which was good enough to get second place, my first trophy ever! The biggest woman got first place. Barb, lifting 128 won the lightweight division.
That contest was the year before we moved here to Chapel Hill. I have had varying success in finding fun and social ways to work out. For a while I used to walk and run with my friend Debbie, and then there was a great group to play tennis with. Then I went and started working 5 days a week instead of 3 and lost that tennis connection. For a couple of years I did master swimming, which I really did love, but the timing of it, being in the evening was tough since it was the only time of day I ever saw my kids who were busy with sports themselves in the afternoon, so I tried swimming on my own. Walking/running with Lisa was great too, until I was sidelined with plantar faschitis. I know that it would help to have a goal, but most of all I wish I could do something that would involve the fun and playfulness that I had back in the days with the Moms of Steel.