HOTT MAMAS

In January I was looking into starting to lift weights.  Aneesa had told me numerous times about how Aaron had become so much more healthy, had lost weight, and had strengthened his back since he started to lift weights in the mornings three times a week with his buddies.  I asked him if I could come too, and Aneesa tactfully told me that I couldn't join that group.  Turns out it is an elitist, snobby, Westside-graduates-only, sports-enthusiast weight lifting group.  Not her words.  

So I decided to form my own group and I convinced Aneesa that she should do it with me.  I told her that it would be called the Westside Non-Elitist Weight Lifting Club but she hated that name.  She told me to come up with something better.  After some thought, I came up with HOTT MAMAS, which stands for Her Own Time To Meditate And Modify her Amazing Shape.  HOTT MAMAS.

Aneesa always encourages me in my little weird eccentricities.

So we met Tuesdays and Thursdays - almost without fail, for six months.  Aaron kindly made us some routines and printed them out and taught us how to do them. It really helped that we were about the same fitness level and strength.  We could set the weights for one level and both of us do them.  Dumbbells, barbells, planks, lunges, pushups, crunches, bench presses...we did it all.  We were amazing.  

And then I broke my collarbone.  

The doctor said no lifting weights for twelve weeks and maybe even sixteen.  I envisioned HOTT MAMAS fizzling.  

But after a week, we hit upon walking the track.  We still meet at 5:30 Tuesdays and Thursdays and we're usually able to walk twelve laps and sometimes thirteen in an hour.  That's three miles.  

It's great.  We talk and talk.  Sometimes Aneesa calls it her therapy.  

The above picture was taken one morning when it started to rain just a couple laps into our walk.  It drizzled and drizzled and pretty soon we were soaked.  One of us suggested bagging it and going home but we toughed it out and finished our hour.  A rainbow came out and we took a selfie, with both of us looking extremely goofy.  I don't think either of us has mastered the art of selfies, a fact which I think neither of us cares about.  

It's wonderful.  What would I be without Aneesa?  This is what I would be: fatter and grumpier.  Thanks, Hott Mama.