Up until last year, I’d been a member of a gym for at least 14 years. First Planet Fitness for over a decade, then a brief stint at the Y after we canceled our Planet Fitness memberships. For a while — mainly before we had kids — Jerry and I were major gym people. We needed the gym, loved the gym, practically lived at the gym.
Then along came Caleb and poof! No more gym time. No more us time, or me time, or any time, really.
So we ended up canceling our brand-new Y memberships too, after just a few months… because of that whole “time” thing. Sure, I managed to get there about twice a week last year, but it was an ordeal. Every workout required getting myself ready, getting Caleb ready, driving over, signing him into child watch, rushing through 30 minutes, then reversing the entire process. It took over an hour just to squeeze in half an hour of exercise. Absolutely not.
By December, when Holden was about two months old and we were finally emerging from the blur of the newborn phase, Jerry and I realized we wanted to get serious about fitness again. But another gym membership didn’t make sense — not for the “full-time jobs, two kids, zero free time” season of life we’re in. The only realistic option was working out at home, where we could grab small pockets of time without spending the little energy we had just getting out the door.
We’d talked about it for years, but finally made the jump: we bought a treadmill. It felt like the best solution for two lapsed runners who want to get back into it and two exhausted parents who need the freedom to pop downstairs — with or without a child in tow — and get a quick workout before dinner.
And honestly? It’s been exactly what we hoped for.
I always joked with Jerry that once we had a treadmill at home, there’d be no more excuses... and I wasn’t wrong. It’s hard to justify skipping a workout when all it takes is walking downstairs and giving it 30 minutes. It was much easier to make excuses when the gym involved bundling up a toddler in the dead of winter, brushing off the car, digging out water bottles, and mentally powering through the whole production.
There are things I miss about going to the gym. I miss the energy, the motivation of being around other people working toward goals, and the access to strength equipment. But we can always add a weight bench later if we want. Right now, the treadmill fits our lives perfectly. And once the weather warms up, we’ll probably take our runs outside.
(Then again, I’m not an outdoors girl and I love my air conditioning, so… maybe not.)
One unexpected perk: the privacy. I can be as sweaty and disgusting as I want without worrying about anyone else. And I’ve gotten a lot more reading done on the treadmill. At the gym, it was too hectic to focus on a book; at home, it’s basically a reading machine with cardio benefits.
People have called me a “supermom” for doing everything I do plus working out. It’s kind and I appreciate it, but I don’t feel like a superhero. I’m just a tired, stubborn, determined mom with a treadmill in the basement that guilts me into moving my body as often as possible.
Not all heroes wear capes.
Some just have a moving belt with adjustable speed and incline.
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