Fire...

Day three of personal training has arrived! After a mild failure of a weekend in which I did hardly any exercising on days other than Saturday, I'm a tad apprehensive about the session tonight. But first thing's first: elliptical time. I've come to enjoy my time on the elliptical for many a reason. One: because it's not very long, and two: because I can actually do it without pre-dialing 9-1-1 just in case. The ellipticals are kind of crowded tonight and I am lucky enough to be next to a very smiley woman who's plugging away on her own machine and she amuses me enough to keep me on track, too.

Workout conclusion: consistency is key?

After the elliptical I quickly drop off my phone and trudge back to the cardio room. With my head hanging low I shamefully admit my lack of exercise to Justin because I was under the impression that I was supposed to work out twice before this session. Allegedly that is not the case. He apparently knew that I wouldn't exercise before now. I can't tell if I should feel relieved or offended. I really want this to work and despite all of my progress I still allow my laziness to get the better of me, on occasion.

Here's the other thing I really appreciate about the whole personal training thing. There's is another person involved who can help keep me accountable. Do you want to know another thing Justin is really good at? Making me feel bad. And I mean that in the best possible way. In a way that makes me realize that the only person I'm screwing over when I'm lazy is myself. That is a tough pill to swallow. And it would be easier with cake but dammit I'm trying to give up sweets.

We start with fifteen standing chest presses as I fill him in on the movies I saw this weekend (which were all great, by the way). Talking proves to be a great distraction from the pain of exercise, in case you were curious. A fact that becomes incredibly apparent when I do my minute wall sits. Holy quads. They burn like the fire of a thousand suns. And I have to do four sets of them in between my chest presses. But I wanted this. In fact I'm paying for it.

Onward we press to the weight room where I do push ups and squats. It's during the push ups that I discover the truth in what Justin continues to tell me about doing them. It's easier if you just keep going. Stopping in between push ups to rest does absolutely no good, believe it or not. We do four sets of each, to mix things up, and this is something I wish I had learned before my last set when I was given the ultimatum of not being allowed to stop during the set. To maintain what little dignity remains at this point, I do feel the need to let Justin know that I really do want this to work and that I'm not stopping just for the heck of it. It honestly sometimes feels like I can't do anymore.

I realize this may sound mildly pathetic to some of you who do this type of stuff as a warm up to a real workout, but keep your stupid opinions to yourselves. If this is where I have to start, so be it. My goals may be lofty but it would be foolish to assume I could achieve them without starting way below them and working upwards. If it worked instantly, so one would be fat and everyone would be rich. Hard work is what pays off. Feel free to print that on a t-shirt if you ever need motivation.

To end the day, I have to do a standing twist of some sort, which is where I really start to feel the piece of cake I had earlier at a 'last day' party for a woman who works in my office. And this is why I shouldn't eat cake anymore. Working out with cake in my belly makes me ill, apparently. All in all it's a positive experience, though I am still mighty embarrassed by the designs my sweat makes on my t-shirts because of where I start to sweat first. But what to me is disgusting may serve as inspiration for a great artist who happens to work out at my gym and who knows, maybe my sweat will be hanging on the wall of an art museum. How's that for optimism?