(Well, something like that. The title is actually referring to Chrisette Michelle (of Epiphany fame). A song off of her debut album called “Work it Out.” Beautiful song, by the way.)
A few weeks ago, I expressed a desire to join a particular gym when I get my “good check”–that check that you actually have money left over from to pursue things you actually want to do and not just pay bills. Mr. Perfect and I visited said gym, and Mr. Perfect signed up later that week. I am still waiting on my good check (I get that Friday). I went in with him for a consultation Wednesday, then we went back Saturday.
Why am I telling you all of these mundane details? Because I was at first a bit confused by something. We worked out a bit before the consultation (which was really just a meeting with a trainer to express goals and discuss physical limitations before we are shown how to use equipment and actually set up a workout plan), and on Saturday we were in the gym for over an hour. I got adventurous and chose the cardio workout program for the two machine I got on that had programs, which meant I at least got my heart rate up. I also got on this hip adduction (or abduction?) machine and two different machines that worked the abs. I was proud of myself for not just staying on the treadmill (on the manual setting so I could decrease my speed at will). I felt good after working out (I usually do–it’s actually getting me in there to work out that is often the problem).
But the strange, confusing thing was Mr. Perfect’s reaction. He seemed so happy that I went both times. He told me he was happy that I came with him. He was very…tender is the best word I can think of. I didn’t expect to be that big of a deal. I mean, I do work out, used to work out quite regularly. But the more I think about it, the more I can kind of see why it might have been important to him.
I love movies. Mr. Perfect does not. But we go to the movies a LOT. We usually end up doing what I would like to do (not because I always choose what we are doing, and not because he always asks me–sometimes he just automatically go to that place or turns to that channel). Mr. Perfect is really into working out. It’s one of the few things he voluntarily gets up early for (work and such is definitely involuntary). So I think he was happy that I was willing to go with him and do something he would like to do.
We talked alot this weekend about hobbies and things we used to do or haven’t gotten to do that we might like to get back to, most of which are sans one another. Some of the things I want to do are very practical and girly, while some are focused on things I’ve always wanted to do. For instance, I want to take better care of my hair and wear it down more, but I also want to finish my novel and get some short stories published to more towards my goal of being a full time writer.
Mr. Perfect has also taken back control of his remote on Sundays to watch the football games. This is a good sign to me. Guys indulge you a lot when you first get together, and sometimes this indulgence means you don’t get very integrated into their lives. They never do what they would normally be doing because they are with you. So although they are dying to watch football, there they are watching Bridezillas or Dress My Nest or some more feminine programming. But once they decide you may be around for a while, they want to integrate things that they like into the relationship. It can’t always be about you. At least that’s my borrowed perspective. I like that. It’s been happening by degrees since last July, but it’s been happening.
I promise I will write more often.
*I got the above photo here. Looks like a great site for Black Wellness.