My country for a Push Up

A push up. A push up. My kingdom for a push up.

Okay, so I did it again: started out strong and determined and then disappeared into a cloud of beer foam and snack foods. But I'm back again. And you know what? That's better than not being back at all.

This time there's a twist. I've joined an eight-week Fitness Challenge (a la Biggest Loser 2.0) at my gym. I saw the sign when I came out from a tennis match recently and for some reason, despite my dismal weight control and fitness efforts of late, I felt a surge of urgency. "I'm doing this." I said out loud, (it was like my mouth was telling me what to do). A tennis buddy next to me jumped on board and before we knew it, we had our team of six.

We compete against other teams for the top prize: bragging rights I think. The group that's lost the largest percentage of weight and inches and increased their fitness with things like push up count and sit up counts wins.

Now, I'm nothing if I'm not strong. Once, only a few years ago, I had to pick up a washing machine from a relative's house. When I got there, I found there was no dolly to move it and no one willing to help me. I shrugged, picked it up, carried it to my car, put it in the car, drove it home, took it out and carried it in the house. Just like that.

My husband was amazed when I explained how it had gotten in the house. A few months later, we were talking with friends about water skiing and I was reminiscing about how I could once get up on one ski in a snap. I asked him if he thought I still could.

"With a washing machine strapped to your back," he quipped.

yep, I'm strong.

So, imagine my shock when on the first day of the fitness challenge I  dropped to give them 20 and found I could only do . . . .

Zero.

Zip.

That's right. I cannot do a single blasted push up. That's what things have come to. I'll admit it, I was a bit despondent  that day. But now I'm on a mission. I promise you: I am eventually doing push ups. Note the plural.

Eventually is key here. I need to move past the notion that there are quick fixes. The reason I'm starting strong and failing is because I'm expecting too much and not being patient. I need to slowly adapt . . and enjoy what comes with it.

I'm going to my fitness classes, and adding gym classes in between. I'm eating the healthiest I have in maybe forever. I'm trying to treat myself well.

I'm getting a bit stronger every day and dropping a little weight.

I'm getting closer to that push up. And I'm going to do it.

With a washing machine strapped to my back.