My Last Resolution: Embarrassed at the Gym


One year ago, I was sitting and debating what my big, prophetic New Year’s Resolution was going to be. I already knew- I needed to focus on ME. I was talking to my doctor about how unhappy and ragey I had been feeling, and he told me that he and his wife had a standard agreement: they each got one hour for themselves per day. As a stay at home mom with three kids under five, I had lost myself, and the shell of me wasn’t that great either. How could I possibly find an hour a day when my kids still weren’t sleeping through the night?? I was freaking exhausted… but something had to give. I had to make a change-enter stage left: boot camp.

Like all good cliché resolutions- I went for the old “I’m gonna get healthy. I’m gonna start working out. Hear me, roar.” I was a college athlete- like surely I would just bounce right back- easy, peasy. Oh, my loooooord was I wrong. I started in my living room doing videos, but every ten seconds a child would interrupt or need their millionth snack or start fighting. I noticed my cousin and my aunt were doing these pop-up boot camps, and I thought- well, if they can do these, I can do these. HAHAHA wrong.

I talked myself out of going every day. I gave myself sixty-seven excuses. But for some reason that first Saturday, I showed up to the pop-up camp and eyed the other crazies. There were people of all fitness levels, and I thought- oh easy, I got this. Do y’all see a theme here? I like to call it overconfidence at this point. Listen- we start working out, and I am so sweaty and out of breath I legitimately thought about walking out at the halfway point. Then the dang thing ends, and I was so proud of myself just for finishing that horrendous camp that I realized the trainer said there was a finisher. Uhm, I’m sorry, but I am finished, and now I’ll be leaving- thank you very much. Oh no, nope… not done. She wanted us to do squat star jumps for two minutes straight. Uh yeah, cool bro- I got this….. nope, I just peed my pants. I listened to everyone talking about how hard that camp was- how that was the worst one yet, so I thought “well psht. I made it- I should try another one and see how awesome I am.” Again- overconfidence.My sweat is sweating

I showed up the next time and could not do a single sit-up. That is not a joke. Not one. I was mortified. Sure, it was mostly mental, but here I was, this former athlete turned mom who literally could not do a single sit-up. I pushed the tears back and finished the workout. Turns out after camps, the trainer would hold one on one nutritional meetings with members and help fine-tune your nutrition- hard pass, thanks. The last thing I needed was to get weighed by this uber-fit chick and let her judge my steady diet of carbs. And yet, there I was untying my shoes and exposing my love for sweets. Then I’m awkward- like trying to crack jokes and make fun of myself, and I was dying inside. She saw right through it and just encouraged me to be where I was and make progress on my own trajectory- not anyone else’s. Deep thoughts- I had neglected myself for the better part of six years, I could not possibly and realistically expect my body to hop back into shape from two workouts- but a girl can dream.

I came home and talked to my husband about the free trial, about how I thought maybe this could help me feel better and about how the workout would have me there and home in a little over one hour. He agreed to give it a shot, even though I think he had doubts. Which for me, was great- because sometimes I thrive on proving people wrong (petty much? You betcha!). There were camps in the morning and the early evenings- I had no excuses. I started showing up regularly. I had figured out the membership rates and what it broke down to per camp if I went ‘x’ amount of times per week, and I held myself up to make sure that we were getting our money’s worth- guilt. I had guilt spending money I wasn’t making. Ignoring my health, getting so tired and lazy, I didn’t want to play with my kids- but here I was, worried about financial responsibility. Ugh.

So mama- as you’re looking at a brand new year- even better, a brand new decade! Remember: everyone starts somewhere. Girl, I could not do a sit-up, push-ups on my toes? HAAAAAAA. I am not even close to where I want to be with my weight or my physical appearance- but I’m a heck of a lot closer than I was one year ago today. So when you’re feeling nervous walking into a new gym, or you’ve talked yourself out of that class a billion times- ask yourself what happens if you just say yes. The worst that could happen was that I could tank miserably at the class, then I would leave in the middle of it feigning diarrhea and never, ever see those people again (well, most of them). My exit plans had back up plans. But there is something so magical when a group of women supports each other- like truly support you and want you to succeed. So I continue to say yes. Even on days where I am tired, I am grumpy as all get out- I still say yes. I don’t care if it’s working out, reading every day, being more engaged with your kids, being more positive (I had already done that-anything but more positive pregnancy tests- alleluia!)- just do it. Mama, find something that brings you joy into the new year.

I am a member of Burn Boot Camp in Carmel ( if you’d like to join me. They offer two weeks of free trial classes ? No pressure to join- but what if you find your people? What if you find something that you actually miss doing when you have to be away for a week? The sign you’ve been waiting for- this is it.)

Burn Sisters
Occasionally the gym has themed days- like Twinning!!
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Amy is the mom to three little girls- ages six and under. Born in small town Indiana, she has been a Hoosier her entire life and frequently threatens to change that- but probably never will. When not playing Barbies, she enjoys coffee, brunch, working out and silence- but the kind of silence that isn't followed by a disaster like a flooding sink or nail polish in the carpet. She speaks fluent sarcasm and can dig in to anything Pop Culture related.