And to make it home without anyone pointing out my mismatched socks


By Cherimie Crane Weatherford

The confetti has settled, many resolutions fall unraveled and anxiously we peek into summer’s window. The gusto of January has turned into the gut wrenching fact that our sweet little town has an extremely long swimsuit season. Maybe the extended skin baring season keeps us honest, keeps us aware and keeps us all reluctantly reviewing our health care regimes. It failed to keep me from Valentine’s Day or my daughters Easter basket.

In the world of health and weight management each of us has his or her battle. Although mine falls in line with the usual suspects; it is slightly different. Early on I accepted that my physique was one of practicality, not perfection. My short legs will never be runway material and my curves are enthusiastically appreciative of southern cuisine. My days are stressful as sleep is but a pre-parenthood memory. With a tired body and an overactive mind, I greatly value the benefits of a gym membership. Thankfully my safe haven has reopened its doors. The Wellness Club at Celadon is effectively deterring my life of crime.

Crawling, stumbling, or skipping through the doors I enter what is my bandage for a day full of scratches and scrapes. I can run on the treadmill losing frustration with each mile. Then retreat to the mat where I instantly become the greatest, albeit slightly uncoordinated, Yogi of all time. As if that weren’t enough to banish the bad, the steam shower cures whatever remains from a day with more twists than election season. Oh how I missed this sweet escape, a place where even an overwhelmed Mom of a toddler can find reprieve. I am no Jane Fonda, matter of fact, my appearance in the gym more resembles Shrek, Minnie Pearl, or maybe Richard Simmons on a good day.

Many years I have spent in gyms, lifting weights at 5 a.m. (forced obviously) to even a most humiliating step- aerobic phase. Thankfully YouTube wasn’t quite so popular, and there was enough running to sign me up as a fill in for Forrest Gump. I feel as though I’ve done my time, paid my dues, and somehow avoided losing a major limb. Going to the gym, isn’t my idea of a fabulous time. With an intimidating schedule and a strong desire to sit on my porch it is easy for exercise to exit my priorities.

I realize there are health benefits but sadly that isn’t my solitary motivation. I am at least 20% less mean when I have that coveted time to myself. The physical rewards are secondary, to my improved personality. After being Mommy, wife, small business owner, new community real estate broker and feeder of two impatient four legged friends, being all alone and looking ridiculous on a treadmill is often just what the Psychiatrist ordered.

I don’t worry about my form, my outfit, or my granny bun on top of my head. There is no awkward small talk with sweat pouring away the remainder of any make up I refuse to apply. I don’t fake listening to my iPod to avoid discussing current events while struggling through a sit-up. If I want to scream in victory after lifting an impressive 10 lbs., well scream I do. As a bonus, my cell phone does not work at all within the walls of this fitness fortress. It is the little things ya’ll.

Regardless of how it may seem, I am not always anti-social. I just prefer not to have conversations during crunches, debates during dead lifts, and honestly I just don’t want to worry if my socks don’t match. My days are full of social interaction and awkward encounters. I have that covered. Home fitness videos, although an obvious option for one as odd as myself, make almost as much sense for me as watching Jeopardy instead of going to college. If you find yourself in need of a healthy oasis, an accepting environment and a place where your cell simply won’t work, Celadon Wellness Club may be for you. Just please, if you see me, understand that I won’t have my contacts in, so I promise I am not making a mean face at you. I can’t see you. If I am hiding behind the elliptical, please don’t take it personally. I just want to burn a few calories, blow off some steam, and make it home without anyone pointing out my painfully obvious flaws or my mismatched socks.

Cherimie Crane Weatherford, owner of SugarBelle boutique, Celadon Real Estate Broker and observer of all things momentous and mundane lives on Lady’s Island with her golfing husband, dancing toddler and lounging dogs.

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