Gym Fail

I just got back home from my most lame gym visit ever.

Last night I coordinated with a friend and we both agreed to meet at the gym this morning. Usually I forego Fridays because I have my neighbor's baby who is younger than Jack.  Getting two non-walkers out of the house at the same time is just a whole lot of work.

Side note:

How do mums of two kids do it?

I get it when they are like three

and up, but what about

those moms who have their

babies two years apart?

Sigh.

I guess I will just have to wait and see

how its done when my time comes.

And for extreme clarification,

this side-note has not been an announcement.

When I posted this mystery surrounding 

Baby Broccoli,

a close friend of mine sent me an excited text

asking if my surprise was that

I was going to tell Andy I was pregnant.

So now, I feel paranoid about any comments

that could potentially be interpreted as

"I'm pregnant!"

I'm not. 

But I decided that even if it was a whole lot of work, I would feel so glad that I got there and snuck in a run.  I wish I could say it was an extra run for the week, but alas, it is not so, this week was lots of...well... lots of not going to the gym, that's for sure!

So I fed and packed up both babes and made it successfully to the car.  I was feeling quite smug and optimistic about the day. I was running on time, which is pretty much a miracle, and I remembered everything.  

The drama started when I arrived at the child watch center at the gym.  Mind you, this will not sound in the least bit troublesome to you, especially if you don't have kids, but for some reason, the combination of all the following just blackened my mood.

I'm still trying to rub away the scowl that has settled on my eyebrows from it.

First: There were too many babies (you know that whole ratio thing) and I had to wait 15 minutes to drop one baby off.

Second: I got a little hand slap (figuratively people... and kindly... but it was still embarrassing) for bringing in a baby who was not a member.  I can have up to five kids on my membership so I assumed it would be okay, only it wasn't.  They still let the extra baby in, and still smiled at me, but I felt so stupid.

Third: There were no treadmills open when I finally dropped off both wee ones.

Fourth: I don't really like ellipticals

Fifth: I got on one anyway and thought I would just stay busy until a treadmill opened up. One did just a few minutes later and I jumped at it.  But before I even got situated another woman came up and said she had been waiting for it (okay, my gym just got fancy new equipment and the last few times I've been the sign-up sheets have been a mystery, so I just assumed they were still not in order and it was first come first serve.  They aren't.).  Hand slap #2.

Sixth:  I took the walk of shame back to my elliptical.  As I was getting situated my ipod some how flew away from me and my machine and I had to take a second walk of shame to retrieve it from the middle of the floor.  Boy do I  know how to cause a scene!

Seventh: Two treadmills opened up about 15 minutes later and I waited a few minutes to see if they would be claimed.  I got off my machine and SIGNED UP and then hopped on.  About half a mile into my run I realized that in my rush I forgot to wipe down my other machine.  Rude.  I felt like everyone was just watching me and scorning me for my bad gym manners.  

Eighth:  I don't really like the word eighth.  It looks weird and I feel like I have a lisp when I try and say it.

Ninth: In the weights circuit I got stuck behind a very, very smelly man.  Perhaps it was my punishment for my bad manners.

Tenth: I quit early.  I wasn't in the mood.  So I picked up my boys and headed to Starbucks for some caffeine and then home for some lunch.

That is the end of my pathetic attempt at a Friday workout.  I don't think I'll bother next week.  

But here is the thing. 

Why did it faze me so much?  Why did it make my outlook so bleak?

I don't want to be that controlled by external happenings.  But some days I just am.  

Did I not get enough sleep?  Did I get my caffeine too late in the day?  Was I mentally weakened by the revolt being staged by my face that has resulted in an unattractive complexion? 

Who knows.

What I do know is that "This is the day the Lord has made."  Regardless of hand-slaps  or embarrassment or "waking up on the wrong side of the bed," I need to learn to rejoice.

I firmly believe that Jesus wants me to live joyfully.  Joy is fruit in my life that grows when I am in community with my God.  

Today, weeds of frustration and irritability started to take root around my precious joy.  I want to be proactive to rip them out before they affect the growth of the fruit that I crave.  

So I put on my gardening gloves and start pulling.  All the way down to the roots.  As I pull, I remember that this day is just as important to God's creative plan as yesterday, and as tomorrow.  I want to live it the way He intends.  I have no way of knowing what work He is doing in me as I choose to sacrifice the weeds and nourish the fruit. 

This is the day the Lord has made.  I will rejoice and be glad in it.