Confessions of a Wimpy Woman

There are days where I feel like Rosie the Riveter.  I can go to work, take care of my two-year-old daughter, make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and still have time and energy to write at the end of the day.  I am strong.  At least, I was strong.

I went to the gym a few days ago- Saturday evening actually.  Instead of feeling like Rosie, I felt like something entirely different...

Suddenly, I was that kid who signs up for weight training in the 10th grade because I'm sick of being the scrawny, wimpy kid.  I'm sitting on the equipment getting ready to bench press.  And, all I can think is that it's been 3 months since my car accident; therefore, it's been 3 months since I even looked at this equipment let alone used it.  Anyhow, I'm getting ready to bench press.  Get ready for it.   12 pounds.  That's right.  12 pounds.  I can do 2 sets of 15 at that weight. 

Ok.  I'll admit it.  I've never had much upper body strength.  I was always the girl in PE that could never do a pull up when it came time for the President's Fitness Challenge.  But, 12 pounds is ridiculous.  My 2.5 month old nephew weighs that much.
 
I know all eyes around me are looking at the lame number of pounds I'm lifting, and they're thinking how lame I am.

Ok.  Maybe they aren't really looking at me.  And, even if they did who cares.  At least I'm trying.  There are so many people who don't even bother to try.  Also, it's not even my fault.  I got rear-ended.  I hurt my back.  Let them laugh at my wimpyness behind my injured back.