Fitness story continued

Before my second semester of linguistics classes, I was seriously doubting my ability to cope on the mission field, remembering what a wimp I was about the heat in Thailand.  Therefore I made this a matter of serious prayer and made every effort to crucify my flesh on a daily basis to hopefully quicken the sanctification process and make my spirit stronger.

One thing I did in order to make my body my slave (and not the other way around) was to fast every Monday.  That was a miserable experience.  Though never formally diagnosed with hypoglycemia, my low blood sugar was a serious problem, and Mondays were the worst days of the week.  I'm not sure that I grew spiritually as a result of that failed experiment.

Plan B was to join a gym and do the one thing I hated even worse than not eating.  By now you know I can't stand any form of exercise that induces perspiration.  A good friend from my SIL days in Dallas told me about a special price at the President's Health Club right there in Duncanville. It seemed a bargain.  I could start each day with a workout and then go to class and still work in the evening teaching ESL.

Exactly a week before fall semester classes were to start, I ran over to check out "The Club" in between my two summer jobs.  After completing the welcome tour and hearing the spiel, I was shocked to see none other than Jim Loker, whom I had met a few weeks earlier.  Little did I know that this was a potential deal-breaker for Jim.  He mistakenly assumed I was a fitness buff like him.  (Yes, I know.  Hilarious in retrospect.)

Anyway, Jim proposed to me on the spot quickly asked me out on our first date.  The first day I moved into a duplex across the street from the SIL center in Duncanville, Jim was to pick me up and we would go work out together at the President's Health Club, get cleaned up, and then go out to dinner.

For days I dreaded the inevitable, when Jim would discern the truth, that I never was, never would be anything remotely resembling an exercise fanatic.  It was almost worse than I had dreaded.  I sweated glowed and strained with the very slightest weight, and every muscle quivered and shook violently, betraying any hope of continued pretense.  My entire body was drenched in a most un-Baylor-girl-like way from my hair to my toes.

Over dinner after I did my best to get cleaned up and restore a tiny hint of dignity, I fessed up that I detest lifting weights and that I was a total weakling who was terrified of bombing out on the mission field due to my sheer wimpiness.

Apparently Jim was okay with the real me because we were already discussing marriage and missions before the evening was over.  And thus began our very brief courtship which resulted in marriage less than four months later.  (Related blog entry)

It remains open to speculation whether our surprise "honeymoon baby" was secretly a preconceived (pun intended) plot to forever spare me the cruelty of lifting weights.  It does seem ironic that exactly one year and four weeks after that infamous workout/first date, I was home nursing a baby.

Twenty-six years later, I suppose my excuses against exercise are all used up.  Back to T-Tapp in the New Year....

What are you doing to get or stay fit in 2011?

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