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Gym Time


Mom is leading the pack in strength, emotionally anyways.  Before we left the house I glanced in the mirror – I had taken a long hiatus and was finally ready to attend to myself again.

I whispered to my body, “Remember?”  I hope it heard me because I was cocky and told my boys I could out press and out rep them on anything.

We were the only ones in the gym and there’s something to be said for that. I love people but get upset when a gym session turns into an extended meet and greet. We came to kick our asses – can we chitty-chat later?

Barbell training for the girl was attended to by the oldest while I stood back and watched.  She didn’t break a sweat but she had a blast.

On the other side, my youngest boy was complaining of cramps after two minutes on the stair master.  I rolled my eyes internally and put him on the treadmill with Spongebob Squarepants as distraction.

As my daughter headed to the treadmill my other two sons and I played medicine ball catch before they decided it was time for me to prove myself.

We rounded through most everything (small gym) before my oldest sat down red-faced and out of breath. He somehow passed his physical for football camp but was ‘dismissed’ when his coach was sure he was having a heart attack during practice one day.  He has severe asthma.  Actually, all of my children seem to have some kind of respiratory or allergy issue that I counter with wooden floors, constant dusting and air purifiers in every room.

So for the oldest, weight training requires an inhaler and shorter sessions, but, he’s determined to get in shape and build muscle, so, build we will…





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