My Title: Workoutaholic
His Title: Comfort-addict
The Challenge: To do something she suggests.
The day was Monday.
I had skipped my regular workout routine in the morning in order to make time for my family--weeeellll, I also went to the local gym and caught a cardio class. Aside from that factoid, I decided to forgo my regularly schedule practice to be with the fam.
It was the day after Easter and I was feeling every bite of brown sugar ham, every lick of twice-baked mashed potatoes (what? you don't lick your potatoes?), and every frozen morsel of ice cream I had consumed the day before. Needless to say, my husband thought all was well with his life and felt obligated in no way to exercise, though it apparently had crossed his mind briefly to go on a jog. The day proved too cold to run outside, so, since we were both home due to the holiday, I made a suggestion: let's workout together!
His reaction was far from thrilled--yet, he agreed. My reaction was far from somber--I skipped around the kitchen, kissed him and proceeded to make a right fool of myself out of excitement to pump iron with my man.
I had made it to week 10 in the p90x program and I was due to follow the suggested routine of chest, shoulders and triceps. Lots of push-ups...ugh.
While the older kids watched the younger one, my husband and I threw on our exercise clothes and headed to the basement. Though 'ole Tony had Ab Ripper X as the final hurray for the day of lifting, I tended to put it first. So we began. I demonstrated the move and he began to remember (he had done the program a few years back). Each core/sit-up move is set to 25 reps. I couldn't help but overhear my husband counting to 10-ish, saying, "Yep, that hurts," then lying flat on his back, hands and legs outstretched like roadkill. The time came for Pfifer scissors--a move that really does stink--you lie on your back, raise your left leg about 2 inches off the ground, raise your right leg so it points to the ceiling then straighten your legs as best you can and flex your foot. Hold for 3 secs then switch. This is done 25 times. OUCH!
My husband has the genetics of his father--they are sinewy, inflexible men. He could barely get his legs straighter then 90 degrees and was grumbling and grunting his way through 6 moves. I kindly reminded him to keep his legs straight. When he turned his reddening face toward me and spit out the words, "THEY ARE STRAIGHT!" We both burst out laughing.
That led to several more outbursts and reminiscing.
It was the best time I'd had with him in months.
