...Back up a year or so ago… Anthony and I set out to work out at 5am a year or so ago, and we made it about two days. He is a early morning person, and has a routine that involves ESPN or watching a recorded sports event on TV at 5:30am. That doesn't seem healthy for a 9 year old, so I had offered to take him to work out if he would wake me up. That would surely be better for him than watching re-runs of Astros games at 5am, which is what he often does – he is a baseball fanatic, and a huge Astros fan. He loved the permission to wake me up. He is pretty relentless about waking me, and I think it is fun for him – certainly more fun than watching a 1999 Astros game by himself. I didn't want to wake up, but once he started, I knew he would not go away. I had to get up. This was good for me too. I needed all the help I can to get this baby weight x 4 off, and my baby was three! After a couple of trips to the gym, he stopped waking me up. He was up, but I think he got bored with the exercise, and missed catching up on his Astros trivia. I, of course, was not that entrenched in my exercise routine, and quite fond of my sleep, so I didn't say a word. (Bad Mommy!)
So now in 2010, we are off to another journey at the gym. Mother and Son are so different, yet so much alike – sadly. Anthony is my type A child (that isn't me) and he takes a lot of patience. He has no patience -- even less than your average 9 yr old, maybe because he manages to be so annoying that everyone gives into his demands. He is a stickler for doing what you say you are going to do (unless it is something he doesn't want to do – ha!). He is a rule nazi (unless it is a rule he wants to break). He may be a little wishy washy on keeping his word, but he is very good at keeping others to their word though. He is so annoying that you have to do it, just to shut him up! After I had been up late working on my college classes, he woke me up on the first Tuesday after I proclaimed I was ready, and I whined and rolled over. I told him I didn't feel well yet. I begged for him to leave me alone. I did this long enough that it was too late to go! I didn't get anymore sleep, and the morning was painful. I hate starting mornings this way. We had a huge scene at breakfast about mommy not doing what she said she would – give me a break! I was in a bad mood for 2 days. How dare anyone question what I don't do – after all I DO do so much for these little stinkers! He was right though. I have done this all my life. I put it off. I find any excuse (sorry Dad). I think early morning exercise sounds great. It is great, once I have gotten to the gym, but waking is so hard for me.
When I was about 14 years old, I lived with my single dad for a while. It was just he and I (and a couple of Nannies that didn't last). He and I set up a plan to start jogging in the early morning. We would jog to the highway and back (2 miles on a gravel road). He would wake me at something like 4am (probably 6am, but it seemed too early). When I tried not to get up, he would bring a cup of ice water and start dripping it on me, drop by drop on my face. Finally, I would give up and get up. We'd start jogging… "I have cotton mouth… I can't breathe, My leg hurts, my pinky hurts"... anything… just make it stop! He didn't let me stop. He teased me for being a wimp, but my dad is the toughest of tough nails! We didn't even take any water on these jaunts, and these gravel roads were not the best track. I disagreed then, but I see it now. I was a whiney wimpy girl. I still think we could have had some water. Sorry Dad! Thanks for putting up with me.
So when Anthony and I hit the gym for the first time, we quickly made it to the stairmaster. I haven't exercised in quite some time, so we needed to get going. In the beginning, he started climbing really fast, claiming "this isn't hard". That lasted about 30 seconds. 5 minutes into it, he was tired and wanted to stop. 10 minutes into it, he was hungry… "can't we get something to eat?" At 15 minutes, I noticed he was struggling. I pointed to a TV monitor in front of us and said "Look, that is ESPN. You can watch that." He said "Okay. Thanks!" and started to get off the machine. He thought I was telling him he could sit down and watch TV. I told him "No! You have to watch while you exercise. If you are going to get me up in the morning, darnit, you are going to keep going!" That wasn't so exciting for him. I don't think this is child abuse. Is it? Finally we finished our first workout. Two days later, we tried it again. I didn't get up the first time he woke me and he was mad. I did get up in time to go though. This time, he spied a bicycle machine with a monitor that had some sort of video game where he was to pedal the bike through this course and get some monsters or something. I thought this was right up his alley. I positioned myself at a nearby elliptical machine, and the first time I looked over, he was playing the video game and no pedaling was going on. I had to remind him to keep pedaling a few times before he gave up and joined me on the elliptical. He whined a little, but we made it – one week and 2 trips to the YMCA at 5am. We are on our way! I need to get in shape to be healthier and keep up with this crazy life, and my boy needs to get in shape because he is used to success, and is entering the years when sports are becoming more competitive. He has had a huge growth spirt, and is eating us out of house and home already. We just need to keep him burning enough calories to eat that much so he doesn't fight the battle that his mommy does. He can't stand not to win, but some tough lessons are ahead in this crazy utopian suburb where kids have personal trainers and private lessons to make the team. Lord help us!
I have to admit, it felt good. Once I get up, I am glad I did it. I hope he will last longer than one week this time around. I crack up though. I remember that cotton mouth Dad. Though my child sucks the life out of me, and I blame Daddy for that personality, maybe he has a little of Mommy in him after all.
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