Stereotypes...

The expiration of my training sessions is drawing closer and closer. It's been quite an experience, let me tell you. Full of ups and downs and experiences and knowledge. Much like life. Earth shattering comparison, I know. For my second to last training session, I'm as pumped as ever. Justin is running a little bit behind schedule, but I have no where super important to be, so I'm not bothered. And let me take this opportunity to say that Justin is amazingly punctual. This is the first time I have had to wait in my entire 16 sessions. I really appreciate a person who is respectful enough to be on time.

It ends up working for my benefit as I was a little detained doing what every body has to do at some point. At least I know I'm eating enough fiber. I take my extra time and get a full warm up in before we begin the workout. First up is a weighted squat. I've never done these before. A part of me is terrified that I'm going to collapse and be crushed by this bar that I have over my shoulders. I complete fifteen reps without much to complain about, except that my shoulders somewhat hurt from the hyperextension. I alternate with push ups.

But here's where things get a bit exciting. There is no bar involved in these push ups. No sir (or ma'am). These are on the floor girly push ups with my knees on the ground. Before we go further, yes, I understand that what I have just said is sexist. I fully believe that women can do push ups just as well as men. In fact, I complain to Justin about that fact the I'm so excited to be able to do girly push ups and he tells me that most of his male clients do them from the knees and most of his female clients do them from their toes. Slap that stereotype right in the face. It's simply a tool to describe the form that I use with my push ups. Get over it. But I do twelve of them, and it's an accomplishment that I am determined to celebrate.

Before I can finish my weighted squats, I go through two modifications so that I am as comfortable as I can be (we settle on holding a kettlebell at my sternum) while I'm doing squats. Each set of push ups is difficult, but I get it done, because I can not be stopped. After I do three sets for each, we head in to the gym for the next exercise. I'm entering the very room where I almost died the week before. And you know what I have to do? The same thing. Well, an edited version. Instead of going back and forth twice, I only have to go once. And I have 90 seconds for each time. Whatever is leftover I get to use as a break. I push that thing four times and each time I get it done in right around 15 seconds. That's 75 seconds of rest, which feels incredibly necessary.

It's very satisfying to redeem myself by succeeding at something that seemed impossible the week before. Incredibly thrilling, even. And that high remains as I do my core exercises and end with twenty solid minutes on the cross trainer. I feel successful at the end and that is a feeling that makes me want to keep going. I conquered something that was hard. I struggled but I finished. The outlook is very grim when you struggle and fail, but to finish is to keep clinging to the motivation that I have. Tomorrow I have a follow up doctor's appointment and I am excited to share my progress with my doctor. It gives me a chance to brag, which I clearly love to do.

Fitness...

For those of you who aren't friends with me on Facebook (am I not good enough for you?) may be unaware of an addition to this whole "Fat Person at the Gym" thing. Yesterday I started a twitter account that will be directly linked to the blog. The twitter account will have short little 140 character updates to my journey that are not significant enough to be stretched into an entire blog post. But worry not, they will be hilarious. Check it out if you have twitter and follow and retweet everything I ever do. @fatpersonthegym is the username.

I have been looking forward to my first actual paid personal training session all week and tonight my feelings have morphed into nerves. Why on earth am I nervous? Because I suddenly start to think that this might be really hard. I have some experience because I did get a free hour long session when I first joined the gym, but that was way back in September and I now worry that Justin is going to decide that I should be able to do a lot more.

First of all, that's a stupid thing to worry about. Why on earth would someone who is trained to help me get in the habit of working out give me things that are impossible for me to do. That would be the worst business decision someone could ever make. The problem is that the butterflies in my stomach don't know that they shouldn't be worried about things.

I'm supposed to arrive early enough to do between five and ten minutes on the elliptical machine as a warm up to the half hour that Justin has in store for me. Naturally I decide that means I should do twenty minutes. I want results so I'll give a little more. Plus, Best Friend Rachel is on an elliptical when I arrive so I'll use the extra time to chat.

As I'm telling Rachel about life and that I'm going to be starting my training tonight (believe it or not, she doesn't religiously follow my blog) I start to realize that there is probably a reason Justin told me to only do five or ten minutes on the elliptical. It's probably not because he doesn't want me to get great results; it's probably because he doesn't want my legs to be super tired before he has me punish them with squats and lunges and presses and whatever else you do when you workout your legs. So I stop at fifteen minutes.

Rachel and I take what feels like a final walk. I swear someone yells, "Dead man walking!" Justin is patiently waiting outside the training room with this awful smirk like he knows I'm about to hate my decision. The first thing he has me do is the squat sidesteps with the elastic band around my ankles back and forth twice. My buns are sufficiently burning by the end of those. That was a great workout. I'm ready to go.

No such luck. That took all of three of my thirty minutes. So then we start on circuits. I do 15 pushups, 20 jumping jacks, and 15 squats for three sets. Believe me, it sounds more impressive than it is. That's because I pause to ask whether or not I'm doing things properly and because I'm tired. The problem is I foolishly told Justin way back when that I would be prone to attempting to stall by looking like I was trying to make sure I was doing things right. So he just yells at me (in really a very kind and nurturing way) to stop stalling and not to stop again or he'll have me do more of them.

Water break and back to a new circuit with the rope that I hate SO much. It reminds me of when I was moderately interested in creating a wave in my sister's jump rope. You flick one end and watch it travel down the entire length of the rope. Really amusing for maybe ten seconds. Now imagine it with a thick rope, one in both hands, and you have to do it for over a minute. Maybe even two. I honestly can't remember how long I had to do it each time because I was so unhappy. This was coupled with slamming a giant ball down on the ground while doing a squat.

Thank goodness for another water break because my arms are sore and tired. We then go into the cardio room to do my final exercise of the evening. The best way I can describe this machine (or rather what it makes you do) is a seated jog. Resistance is involved and I'm supposed to go as hard and fast as I can for twenty seconds, then ten seconds slow and repeat it eight times. According to Justin, this is one of the most effective ways to burn fat. Bring it on. These boobs and this belly will be gone. 

Let me be blunt (would you expect anything less?): The whole time I was doing the half hour I was miserable. I was mad at myself for deciding to do the training and my arms hurt and my legs hurt and my abdomen hurt and occasionally I was nauseous. But I would continually subject myself to this half hour of torture because of how I feel afterwards. I feel amazing and I know that I just did something that was really great for me. A half hour of pain leads to days of feeling good about myself and that's amazing.

It's going to take me a while to get to a point where I enjoy the process as much as the product, but I know I'll get there. I just have to suck it up and stop whining like an idiot. That's why exercise has failed for me before. I gave up when it was hard. It's supposed to be hard otherwise it's not working. 

After my workout is done, we schedule our next few sessions. Measurements are happening on Tuesday and I'll be posting each and every one. So I'm going to spend the weakened psyching myself up because to post my actual weight is slightly terrifying. Also, I'll be taking my before pictures. Try not to spend days staring at my gorgeous body.

Drive...

After a weekend of not going to the gym (but I did go dancing) I am excited to go to the gym tonight. So excited, in fact, that I don't even wait until my usual 8:00. Instead I go at 7:00 filled with this bizarre motivation that has become increasingly more common. I'm sans any gym buddies tonight, which I consider both a positive and a negative. No one is there to distract me from my tiredness, but I also don't have to worry about maintaining a conversation instead of listening to my music. Music is pretty awesome.

It's also colder than cold tonight, so I'm happy to have the promise of an 85 degree pool waiting for me. But before the pool, I must do cardio. I'm tempted to try the treadmill and see if I'm able to do any jogging whatsoever, but I chicken out when I see that there are three other people on the treadmill who are better than me. I'm easily intimidated when it comes to cardio endurance.

I settle on an elliptical machine, slightly disappointed that my choices are so repetitive now. Shouldn't I be mixing it up for the sake of not getting my body into a habit? Oh well, I'll save that for another day. Right now the only thing between me and a tropical dip is twelve minutes on this baby. I am ready to punish myself for my slightly lazy weekend and I'm going to do it with the help of Ke$ha.

Slight shift while I talk about results: I have proof that my endurance has improved. I used to have to immediately drop resistance on the elliptical down to level 10 because my heart rate would rise too fast. Now I can leave it on the standard fifteen and even push myself with a very steady climb in heart rate and I can maintain a healthy level. This is awesome, in my opinion. 

After my twelve minutes are up, I full on surprise myself. I decide to go for half an hour. Will I be content with not striving to do my best?! Hell to the no! I almost immediately regret my decision. I realize I'm getting tired and I would really like to stop. But that's the old, lazy me talking. Shut up, whiny lazy Sam. You aren't welcome here anymore.

As I tend to do when I'm on the elliptical, I glance around at the other individuals who are also on a quest for physical fitness. Some people are riding stationary bikes, a very intense looking gentleman is rowing like his life depends on it, and some silly woman is watching the Food Network while she jogs. And not just any show. She's watching Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives, a show that basically features only unhealthy foods. This is foolish and let me tell you why. The whole time she's working out she's going to be thinking about food she shouldn't eat. When she goes home, she's going to be craving a burger with five strips of bacon and two kinds of cheese and you know what? She's going to have it because she'll feel like she earned it after working out. At least that's what I would do. That's why I can't watch the Food Network while at the gym and I can't go on Pinterest at work. Too many delicious looking things.

Over a mile and 20 minutes (30 minutes and 1.52 miles, in actuality) later and I step off the treadmill feeling like what I imagine Gumby felt like constantly. My legs are made of jello. But man, I feel good. Ladies and gentlemen, exercise is therapy. This is what I have discovered and I am sharing this information with you free of charge. 

Like a giddy child, I lumber with purpose back to the locker room to change into my swim suit. For some reason, this 'motivation' thing follows me to the pool, and I am not content to swim like an old person (slow and leisurely (sorry to any elderly readers)) and I try to push myself. I don't take small breaks at the end of each length, and I don't slow down after my first full lap.

When you feel as strongly about making a change in your life as I do, you aren't supposed to go about it halfheartedly. I really did make a decision to change my life and not pushing myself wouldn't be fair to me. That's why I've made the decision to get some personal training sessions. Fitness is an investment in my future and I need to know what I'm doing if I'm going to be as successful as I can be. 

Routine...

I have made a decision. Earth shattering news, I know, but I have made one. My tax return is being invested in my health and I will be buying some personal training sessions. I've talked with Justin (whom I can now officially call my trainer) and settled on sixteen half-hour sessions. Holy crap what am I getting in to?

Ever since Fit Andrew joined the gym, we tend to go at the same time. It's nice to have extra motivation in the form of a buddy, even if we do nothing together while at the gym. When we enter tonight, Skinny Matt is in the office. I stop in and chat for few minutes because I haven't seen him in weeks and we fondly reminisce about when I first joined.

When I enter the cardio room, Grant is wrapping up a training session with Justin. I pop over, say hi, and then get up on the elliptical. Believe it or not (but believe it, because I'm telling you) there is quite a degree of variance between elliptical machines. The machines I usually use are both occupied so I have to make do with this new one. This machine has my arms moving similarly to jogging, with alternating arm and leg swings (left with right; natural movement, basically). I don't know what's going on but I am overcome with a wave of motivation and I kick it into high gear. Quite possibly it's listening to Imagine Dragons that has me ferociously ellipting (yes, I'm still trying to figure it out) away. Grant joins me near the halfway point of my fifteen minutes and we chat. By the end of my fifteen minutes, I've gone a full mile. This usually takes me twenty minutes.

Grant decides he'll join me for a swim, which is a wonderful way to end the workout. I stick mostly to freestyle, really digging the new pair of goggles I bought yesterday. At the conclusion of the swim, we head to the steam room. Honestly, this has become my favorite post-workout ritual. Yes, steam rooms are weird and you should still be careful when searching for images of a steam room, but they are also amazingly relaxing. And Grant brags about how long he can stay in the steam room. I can only manage five minutes before I need to leave, but he's convinced he can stay for ten or fifteen. We discover that he can't.

Upstairs, the amazing Carla makes us some delicious protein shakes. This isn't something I get often, but it's pleasantly cold and tastes really good with the frozen fruit. Makes for a good meal replacement. The problem is, I tend to be a guzzler and drink it way too fast. 

Keep an eye out for my first personal training post. It'll hopefully be up in a week. And with it will come my pre-training measurements with a promise of post-training updated measurements! And probably photos. And everyone should check out the Imagine Dragons album. It's pretty awesome.

Sabotage...

Despite my best efforts (okay, not my best efforts, but semi-decent) the plan I laid out for the weekend morphed into something different. Friday night is great. I show up ready for spin and even get about fifteen minutes of pre-riding in. Justin is teaching this class and pops over before it starts to tell me that everything I'm doing is wrong. My seat is at the wrong height and my handle bars are too close. Riding a bike is hard.

After my lesson in bike riding, Justin heads up to the front to start class. I'm wary after my first spin experience. Heavens knows I don't need to spend another Friday night crying. But this seems like an energetic class, which should prevent me from becoming over-emotional. 

Justin is an interesting spin instructor. He did tell me before my first experience that regardless of how I felt afterwards, I had to give his class a try because his were always fun. Fun may be a slight overstatement because really, how fun could an hour on a stationary bike be? It's not exactly at the top of my list for birthday party ideas. But I do find myself entertained and motivated enough to last the entire hour-long class.

Throughout the class, Justin keeps referencing some woman (I'm assuming as a motivational tool) who is constantly either just ahead of us or gaining on us or any other action that could possibly be considered threatening. By the end of class, I hate this imaginary woman. She has got to be the rudest woman ever. I would throw a stick in her spokes if I could. By the end of the hour, I have ridden 25 miles. My butt is as sore as can be from that stupid bike seat, but I feel pretty proud of myself.

After the biking, because I'm a glutton for punishment (and a glutton in general) I decide I'm going to swim. I neglected to bring goggles and so water keeps getting in my eyes and I keep choking on water because I'm trying to keep my head above water the whole time. I probably look like Fit Andrew trying to swim. It's awful. So I stop after not too long and call it a night.

Saturday we'll call a rest day. My alarm goes off at 6:45 and I want to die because my butt hurts so bad. Two days in a row on a bike seat for an hour? I think not. So I go back to bed and wake up after Pilates. I decide that I'm going to do some yoga, but I can't find the videos. I swear to you, exercise sabotage is a thing and I am a victim.

Sunday I wake up and I'm super pumped about the gym. The problem is, I can't find either pair of my hot pink headphones. I said it once and I'll say it again. Sabotage. But Andrew ever so politely reminds me that I tend to lose things and that it's not sabotage. Fine Andrew, we could have had a ton of fun solving the mystery of the missing headphones but we'll just cop it up to me being slightly scatterbrained. Boring.

We head over to the gym and I and start with fifteen minutes on the elliptical. Is there a term for ellipticalling? Whatever it is, I do it, and I do it well. After I elliptical I timidly enter the weight room. It's literally been over a month since I've been in the weight room. And it seems like they rearrange everything constantly. Where are my usual machines?! Oh, right there. I apologize for being overly dramatic.

After the weights I swim. Yeah, it's a lot for one day, but it's necessary. I enter the pool area right at the end of family swim and pick my lane. Let me tell you there is nothing better than watching a bunch of children leave the pool you are about to use. It's a sign that literal calm waters await and you won't have to listen to any annoying crying or screaming or laughing. I get in a couple of laps, definitely more than on Friday, but I don't go too crazy because this is not my only exercise today.

Side note: Every time I go to the gym I check in on foursquare and if you're mayor, my gym rewards you. I had been mayor for 2 months before some new lady came in and stole it from me. And now I think she works there. Totally not fair, if you ask me.

Tradition...

I don't believe in resolutions. Or at least I don't believe in only making them at the start of a new year. I mean look at me. I started in September with my resolution to do better, more healthy things for myself and I've done fine. So well, in fact, that when I bought new pants, every pair of pants I brought in to the fitting room were able to be buttoned with ease. In all my years that has never happened. Inevitably at least one pair has been too small. But no longer, my friends.

Seeing as it's been a million years (maybe not exaggerating should be my resolution for the new year) since I posted last, I have quite a bit to update you on. I was sick over Christmas. Yes sick, ladies and gentlemen. It is awful. But the healing power of the gym is what carried me through. I go the day after Christmas and do a full 20 minutes on the elliptical. It's difficult to breathe because of my cough and I still have a trace of the shakes from my fever, but Best-Friend Rachel and Sister Miriam (she's not a nun, she's my actual sister) are a wonderful encouragement and I plug through.

After my workout, I decide a nice time in the steam room is necessary. If you are sick, you should try it. It feels great to breathe deeply and really helps with congestion. After my whole gym thing, I feel great. My body is doing it's thing and fighting infection. Amazing how that works.

The following day, I take Miriam back for Pilates with Kiki. She is such a trooper and tries everything despite not really knowing what's going on. And despite a lower back issue, which isn't always advisable. Forty-five minutes later I'm really sweaty and Miriam is complaining of sore abs. Oh honey, wait until tomorrow. 

During Miriam's visit, she was able to meet some of the recurring characters of my blog, and that was a ton of fun for me. I love to brag about my sister and introduce her to people. I also love being able to show her how adored I am at the gym. People love me. 

Back to the whole New Year's thing, I made sure that one of the first things I did in 2013 was a sit-up. That's right, I started the year off with exercise. The whole purpose of that is to serve as my reminder of what my life is now. My life is comprised of me making good choices with health and nutrition and exercise. I've had a good time so far, and it can only get better from here.

(Cheesy inspirational music fades in) If I have inspired you, I want to know about it. If you too have started exercising and feel like you are out of your element, let me know. I can be a great encourager because I know what's it's like to be at that end of things. And I know how exciting it is when things start changing for you. And I want another $5 off my membership fees! Leave me a comment, or contact me through email, whatever works. Actually, I don't know if you can contact me through email. I'll look in to getting that on here. But comments definitely work.

Intensity...

I'm sick of missing Pilates so when an opportunity popped up to swap shifts at Target, I opted to ditch my Thursday night shift in favor of a Friday night shift. I just sit at home and make awful decisions on Friday night anyways, so why not make a conscious decision to better myself? That seems smart.

So Thursday finally hits and I'm feeling really tired. This is what happens to me now that I work until 12:30am, fall asleep around 2:00am and have to be up at 6:45am (which inevitably ends up being more like 7:20). The problem is I really am enjoying working at Target and the extra money is incredibly helpful. The season is over soon, and hopefully they'll keep me on after the technical "Seasonal Employment" time is over, but with adjusted hours so I can resume going to the gym more regularly.

Anyway, so I am heading home from work, dangerously low on gas and I can't stop because I've left my wallet at home. The last thing I need is to run out of gas and not be able to go to Pilates. I make it home and grab my wallet and workout gear and drive to the gas station where I put 16.004 gallons in my 16-gallon tank. My father would be so ashamed that I let it get that low. And thank goodness my dad knows about cars because he has saved me many a time. Not that I don't know that running out of gas is bad for the car, but you get the idea.

Since I was so motivated to get gas, I have plenty time to hop on the elliptical before class starts. I go for just over 5 minutes, really pushing myself and getting a full quarter mile in that time. Exciting side note: I often used to have to slow down because my heart rate would get to high, but today I push the whole time and never get into a heart rate 'danger zone', and that is super encouraging after being lazy for about a week.

After my elliptical warm-up, I head upstairs and meet Lisa, who I have convinced to join me for Pilates, today. I have been wicked encouraging, telling her she'll have fun and Kiki is great, and to only worry about doing what she thinks she can do. Nadine, you are free of your title as I have now become 'Sam the Liar'. Kiki went to some workshop and came back with incredible motivation to basically make our lives miserable. Poor Lisa thought she was going to have a slow paced Pilates introduction, but no such luck.

Kiki races from one exercise to the next, and I'm not only sweating from using my muscles but from moving so fast. It's bordering on cardio. Every move and pose and exercise hurts (in the good 'you're really doing something' way) and I can't wait for class to be over. Every so often I glance at Lisa, who is graciously smiling through the whole thing even though I'm pretty sure she'll never speak to me again.

At the conclusion of the class, everyone is wiped out, but it feels amazing. It was exactly what I needed to de-stress and relax (ironic, huh?). I say hi to Kiki on my way out and pop in and say hi to Ryann, as well. I also confess my awful diet from the past few weeks because I'm feeling honest. Gotta get right back up on that horse. So I ask her to help set me up with her food tracking app. That way she can yell at me for eating awful things.

After the gym, I head to the hospital to visit, get this, MY NEPHEW! My sister had a baby on December 18th and he is, without a doubt, adorable.

No contest

His name is Chester and he is my favorite baby ever.

Sore...

Holy crap am I feeling it today. My butt is wicked sore, my hamstrings are wicked sore, and the last thing I want to do today is exercise. I moan and groan all day at work (sorry Megan) but talk about how I'm going to go to spin and CX Works. Yeah, my first spin class ever. As the day progresses, it becomes more and more apparent that that is not what will be happening.

I get home from work with every intention of skipping the gym. I even announce it when I get home. 'I'm not going to the gym today. I'm too sore. Don't you dare judge me.' Thankfully (because he's scared of the damage I'll do) Fit Andrew chooses not to mock me. Thanks for being kind.

Andrew goes off to rehearsal and I have nothing to do so I watch some TV. As soon as my episode of The Cleveland Show is over, I think to myself, 'I really should go. I don't want to break my streak on Foursquare.' So, I put my stuff together and head to the gym. I've still got a little time until CX Works which will give me plenty of time to decide where my body is and if going to the class would be a good decision. 

I start off on the elliptical, determined to do at least ten minutes. I do a pretty good job keeping pace and am pleased to notice that with greater resistance, my heart rate isn't increasing as much as it has in the past. In a good way. My heart rate goes up, but it's not too high. Tangible evidence of a greater level of fitness. I do drop my iPhone once, which causes quite a spike, but it comes back down when I see the phone is not broken.

When my ten minutes is up, it's the moment of truth. Do I do CX Works or do I take it a little easy and do weights? My butt and hamstrings are convincing enough and I head to the weight room for some quick sets with weights. Believe it or not, I've started to feel comfortable enough in the weight room that I've stopped paying attention to the people around me. Good in terms of my self esteem and confidence, but bad when it comes to being entertaining. I have failed you and I'm sorry. Please forgive me. There's really nothing left to report.

Bam...

My alarm goes off this morning (this is really for Saturday. I'm living in the past) and I am ready to greet the world with a smack of the snooze button. Ain't nobody gonna tell me to wake up before I want to. Nine minutes later, I roll out of bed and prep for Pilates. I arrive to the gym a little earlier than expected. Maybe I could have hit snooze one more time.

No sign of Nadine the Liar. I'm kind of bummed about that. I was looking forward to mildly mocking her. She seems fun. I am pleasantly surprised, however, to find that Grant and his friend Catherine are joining myself and Megan for Pilates today! Acting like I know it all, I try to brief them on the type of mat they'll want to use and how awesome Kiki is and how hard Pilates is. Leave it to me to act like an expert in something that I am in no way, shape, or form an expert in. To really keep up my appearance of being an expert, I plant myself in the front row.

Kiki is as cheerful as ever; a quality I have come to expect from anyone who leads a class at the gym. And seeing as I'm in a butt-kicking mood, I do well. Plus I'm trying to show off how awesome I am to Grant and Catherine. My flexibility still isn't where I want it to be, but it's definitely getting there.

I have to say, being in a group exercise class reminds me a lot of elementary school gym class. Filing in, sitting in our rows, going through exercises (including the butterfly and what Ms. Hoiser called 'jaws'). Just a bunch of people doing whatever the teacher says.

We end the class with a side plank aka the bane of my existence. This thing is so hard for me to do. I don't really have the arm strength and I definitely don't have the core strength to remain suspended in the air. It's a good thing this is not 1692 because these moves would surely get someone to be accused of being a witch. They seemingly defy the laws of physics. 

Post class, while Grant and Catherine and I are debriefing from class, Kiki approaches and tells us she loved having us in class and she tells me she always loves it when I come. Praise be to Jehovah. I am liked by a teacher. My dreams are coming true left and right. I'm gaining some celebrity with my blog and I'm liked by my Pilates teacher. As a person who craves validation, this is awesome.

Partly because I'm feeling super jazzed and partly because I know I should, I go downstairs to do ten minutes on the elliptical machine. Guys, my day cannot be awful. About five minutes in, I realize that I don't notice the burn as much as when I started. I'm gaining endurance! 

True, I'm sweaty, but it's a sexy-sweaty

So, all things considered, it was an awesome workout day. You too can feel awesome all the time like me. Just get off your lazy butt and join a gym. And tell that gym about my blog. And tell your friends about my blog. And tell strangers on the street about my blog.

Referral...

Today at work, I do a full plank for 30 seconds. Two of them, in fact. On the floor on my toes for a minute, total. I'm amazing. I literally couldn't do that a week ago. So see, everyone? Exercising works! 

After my incredibly victorious day at work, I come home and find out that Fit Andrew would like to come to the gym, as well. I'm always excited when other people are interested in trying out my gym. I love even a slight prospect at getting five bucks off my monthly membership fee. Andrew has a little trouble locating his other tennis shoe while getting ready, but after I dramatically search and happen to find it, we're off.

Crap on a stick, Carla isn't at the desk tonight. Oh well, I'll save my greeting for another day. We come in and get set up with a visitor's pass for Andrew and then head down to the cardio room. We make for the elliptical machines. I work out for fifteen minutes next to Fit Andrew, saying a silent prayer asking God to please make him fall off or at least stumble. But no, he just takes off and doesn't ever stop. I, on the other hand, sweat and burn and in an event that I can only describe as magic, drop my iPod off of the machine and it rips my headphones out of my ears. So I do my last 4 minutes without it.

After I finish my fifteen minutes and awkwardly reach for my iPod without getting smacked in the face by Andrew's elliptical, I move on to the weight room. It's a leg day, and leg days are rough. I start on the calf machine, which I have now mastered. In fact, I'm pretty sure people are watching me to figure out how I do it and do it while looking amazing. On to thighs, then hamstrings, then glutes, because I want a nice butt.

Then Andrew and I decide we will do some swimming. Skinny Matt happens to be at the gym, too, and after quick introductions and talk about the earthquake that happened (yes, earthquake) Andrew and I head to the pool.

Seriously, it was about this dramatic

It is in the pool where I get to feel physically superior to Andrew. Now don't get me wrong, he's a good swimmer, but when it comes to using a boogie board and just kicking, I win. Small victory, I know, but a victory nonetheless.

After swimming, it's adventure time. Once again, I attempt to use the steam room. I'm feeling a little braver because I'll have company and therefore conversation to distract me from my suffocating. And Matt also happens to be in there and offers the advice of grabbing a cup of ice water before heading in. I only stay in for about 5 minutes, but it's a comfortable five minutes and I could have stayed longer if I wanted. Is it easier to use the steam room if you're more in-shape?

On my way out, I make a point to introduce myself to the woman at the front desk. After all, she was very helpful with Andrew's visitor's pass. Her name is Taylor and she is so pleasant. I'm telling you, it's these wonderful employees of the gym that make it so easy to keep coming back. It's almost like they're my friends or something weird like that.

Milestone...

Today marks the longest amount of time I have ever consistently exercised. One month and 4 days. So apparently this whole gym then blog thing really works. So if I fail, I can blame my lack of readers. And you don't want that on your conscience, do you? So share the blog and follow it.

After work (where I neglected to plank despite getting a call from Jane) I head out to dinner with a couple of great friends. I still had a free entree and dessert coupon for Not Your Average Joe's, so we go and use it up. I have a DELICIOUS sirloin wedge salad and end with a great dessert of Peanut Butter Ice Cream Pie. And then I have to go to the gym.

Apparently eating that much for dinner doesn't make a huge difference in tonight's workout. As I enter the gym Carla (who is often at the front desk when I come in) greets me by name. And to adhere to my policy of being honest and truthful, I only know her name because I asked Matt. It seemed unfair for her to continually greet me by name and not return the favor, so the next time I go to the gym, she will get a very enthusiastic personal greeting from me. 

Now, because of my training sessions with Justin, I am convicted to use that awful elliptical machine. So I hop on that, first, and go for a full fifteen minutes. As usual, I am crazy sweating the whole time and I'm very grateful when my fifteen minutes are up. I repeat the flapping move that I learned on Thursday and then head into the weight room.

I've said it before and I will say it again. Weight rooms have always intimidated me. I have never seen a single person who is not buff beyond belief in a weight room. Today is only slightly out of the norm. There are several buff guys walking around, examining themselves in the mirrors (something I never understood and continue to be confused by)  and an older woman lifting weights and making me feel exceptionally weak. But one of the guys walking around is apparently working on legs and every exercise he does causes him to look like he is about to cry. At least I'll be entertained during my lifting.

I'm working the upper body, today, so I do some back and chest exercises. I have to say, I've gotten really good at actually engaging the proper muscle groups when I use these machines, which causes me to experience a little more muscle soreness, but I kind of like feeling sore after doing a workout.

Before I leave, I decide that I am going to try the virtual bike game thing that CJ tried to get me to do on my very first day. After setting up a profile, I log in and try a basic course. It's only a mile long, so I won't feel like I've committed to a really long workout. Basically, I get to ride a bike around a track and I have to turn the handle bars to stay on the track and I pass other riders, as well. And you know what? I have fun. Are you happy, CJ?! I HAD FUN! So much so, in fact, that I do a second track before I go home for the night. I may have to do it again.

Suicide...

After work I go out to dinner with two very dear friends. While we are stuffing our faces with bread rolls and pasta, I attempt to convince them to join my gym, or at least check it out. After surprisingly little effort, I convince them that it's worth it to accompany me tonight and see how they like it.

Upon our arrival, Skinny Matt is standing behind the counter. "I brought friends tonight!" Maybe I sound a little too cheerful when I practically shout my statement at Matt, but I make no apologies for my behavior, so he can deal with it. A very nice woman helps both Megan and Charlotte fill out their guest information. I head down to change while they get things sorted out. When I emerge from the dressing room, Skinny Matt has already started giving the spiel (it's the right spelling, trust me, I looked it up) about joining the gym to Megan. I can almost taste the reduced membership fee.

We go down to the cardio room to start, and that is where I make the biggest mistake of my life: Charlotte and I get on the elliptical machine. I know within a minute and a half that this is bad. My thighs are burning. To top it all off, I'm on an elliptical machine that is right next to one of the exercise bikes that has a 'contest' component. It is this very bike where my good friend CJ decides he's going to be working out. It's bad enough that that I'm on a machine that will surely put me on the front page of the newspaper with a 'Fat Guy Dies on Elliptical Machine' headline, but to have to think about spending twenty minutes next to someone who may talk my ear off the whole time adds almost too much stress.

Surprisingly, CJ doesn't say a thing to me during my fifteen minutes of death on the elliptical. Yeah, I cut it down from twenty. Get over it. I am dripping sweat the entire time and my thighs burn like I just climbed all 1,860 steps of the Empire State Building. I wipe off the machine and wait for Megan to finish her biking when CJ decides to start up a conversation about how he's seen me here a lot. I comment on how it's really just an obligation and he says 'But you passed the hardest step: showing up'. That's going on my quote board.

I also look like this during my workouts, only with significantly more sweat

Megan and I head to the weight room, while Charlotte decides to be lame and use the 'Women's Only' equipment room. I focus on arms, today, but not before I try the calf machine one final time. Miracle of miracles, it works. I literally do nothing differently, but I guess the universe thinks I deserve a win.

At this point, I want to go home. I'm tired and sweaty, but these lovely ladies I have brought with me decide that they want to try the pool before we go. So I swim ON TOP of everything else I've done this evening. By the end, I can't feel my body and can only assume I have left my physical body and will soon be ascending into heaven. Not the case.

I decide to try the steam room, again. I walk in and realize that there are two other guys in the room, but I can't see them, because of all the steam. I head towards the edge of the bench and pray that I am not about to sit on one of them. Thankfully, I make contact with the tiled bench. I can still only stay about 4 minutes of torture before I have to leave and sit in the sauna for 10 minutes.

On the way out of the gym Megan decides she's going to sign up for a membership. I not only get my five bucks off, but I also get a free t-shirt, because Matt is awesome.