Gym Mice?

I just wanted to apologize for the writing in this post. I wrote it last night after I returned from teaching and I didn't tweak it at all. So, sorry.

I used to be an obsessive gym rat.

Actually let me start at the beginning.

I used to be a non gym going, non athletic person. When I was a teenager. I was relatively thin (actually, I was probably quite thin, but my best friend was a stick, so next to her I looked chubby). Then my mom died.

And I ate to kill the pain.

And over years I gained weight. Getting up to over 260 lbs (118 kilos) after Pamela was born.

And then I became an obsessive gym rat. And I got back down to 130, which was slightly more than I weighed as a 9^th grader. And I stayed there.

Until I got pregnant with Seth.

Actually, I still ran when I was pregnant with Seth. But we had tried so hard to get pregnant with Seth and then I was surprised that we got pregnant.

And then I started spotting.

So I stopped running. And we moved to Poland.

And I gained weight again. Not as much as before, but definitely too much.

Then I got pregnant with Toby. Then we moved to Houston.

And I went to the gym (YMCA!) and I kept going. And I lost some weight. Not all of it, but some.

Then we moved to Ghana. And I got pregnant with Blaise.

And there were no gyms in Ghana. And I couldn’t lose weight no matter what.

So we moved back to Poland. And my kids all started school.

On my way to one of the schools I saw this sign.

It WAS A SIGN!

I was convinced, and very excited. It’s right on my way to the kid’s school. I checked the website. It’s awesome. It has a pool and cardio equipment and everything I need in a gym.

Except, it turned out, that’s all it was. A sign.

But, come November, you'll see the old gym rat me.