I hate everything associated with exercise.
I hate the clothes - tight enough that your body can move without a lot of chafing, loose enough that you don't feel cut off, and always, always in the most hideous fabrics imaginable.
I hate sweating. GAH DO I HATE SWEATING. That prickly feeling when liquid is slowly running down your face/arms/back/legs? HORROR.
I hate pre and post group workout chit chat. I don't care what your kid is up to, or how much gas/petrol is these days. Just turn on the music and tell me which way to go.
I hate gyms. Gyms were created for people who love to exercise. They have mirrors, and machines that face each other (so I guess you can keep talking about your car's fuel mileage while you work your lats). Sometimes they have trite shit on the walls, posters like "Sweat is weakness leaving the body!" or "No Pain No Gain!". For people who love to exercise (and you know who they are - women who were probably born in a Lycra thong with a matching water bottle cozy, or the man who is roughly the size of a Chevy Cavalier), this place is Nirvana with a slight odor of feet. And that's great, as Billy Joel says, "I believe there is a time for meditation in Cathedrals of our own", all that. But for a person who is *not* a fan of exercise, it is hell. I can see myself at all angles thanks to the wall-to-wall mirrors, and worse, I can see what everyone else can see - that I am a stranger in a strange land. I don't fit in. I am not one of them. I don't know what certain machines do, or why the hell I would want to use them in the first place. My bottle of water doesn't match my sweats and tee shirt from the 1990s, which happens to be the last era that I tried stepping into a gym. I don't particularly like feeling any kind of burn, thank you, much less the burn that comes from touching a piece of equipment that 40 people before me have sweated on and (I can only assume by the smell) improperly cleaned afterwards.
I hate exercise leaders. You know the ones - super perky people who have never been fat a day in their lives, with so little body fat percentages that they would sink like a stone if I threw them in the nearest pool (which I very well might at the end of a session). Women who cheerily count out the doldrum of my hour with them in broken numeric code.
"And five more, ladies! And four, and three, and two...and ten more!"
F*CK YOU STUPID B*TCH YOU JUST SAID 5 MORE, JUST COUNT DOWN TO ONE FOR ONCE OR I SWEAR BY THOR'S LEFT TEAT I WILL BLUDGEON YOU TO DEATH WITH MY SNOOPY WATER BOTTLE.
Hate. Hate. Hate.
So the process then becomes finding a way to get cardio without doing stuff I hate. I already push my kid nearly everywhere (we don't have a car, and I dislike taking the bus/Tube with a pushchair), so at least I get walking exercise. But, I really do need to find a class. I need to have the same people see me every week, and whose reactions I can gauge my process.