Consistency is key and it is, unfortunately, not something I've been doing well. Now before there is a collective gasp, allow me to explain. I have been consistent with exercise the past week and a half. And I've been consistently making better choices when it comes to food (for lunch yesterdays I had chicken and quinoa). The part about consistency I'm struggling with is keeping up with my documentation. I guess I should be scheduling times to blog just like I schedule times to eat and times to exercise, but it's difficult when my day is so busy.
I'll take this as an opportunity to attempt to develop an actual blogging schedule and stick with it, but no promises. I can only handle so much change at once, and right now scheduling time to pre-prepare meals for the week has taken up a lot of time. Plus, the new season of Teen Wolf has started. So lets begin with a recap of the weekend and how I have succeeded.
Wednesday morning had the potential to be awful. I woke up and I was tired and I decided to go back to sleep instead of going to the gym. Eyes closed, covers up, and internal monologue begins: What are you doing? You're really going to go back to bed after you've decided to insist on going to the gym 5 days a week? What's wrong with you? This is what's going to happen. You're going to open your eyes, roll out of bed, wine for exactly three seconds, and then you're going to the gym. And it worked. I went to the gym (a little late) but I got in another day on Couch to 5K. And I felt better for it.
Thursday's personal training was successful, too. I went into it determined to enjoy myself. I refused to stall or wine and just agree to do whatever Justin told me to do. And he had me do the exact same thing we did on Tuesday. The circuit was easier this time around, though I think it was more because of my attitude than anything. After the circuit, I learned a new exercise called the inchworm. Starting in a plank position, you walk your feet up as far as you can with your hands on the ground, then you walk your hands out into a plank position, again. I went from one spot to another with push ups in between for a total of four times. It gets really tiring, though. And I think Justin has figured out a way to stop me from resting when I don't need it. He is very aware that I hate burpees and so he told me that on my last inchworm and subsequent push ups, that if I put my knees down more than once, I would have to do burpees. You'd be amazed by what you can do when the consequences of failure are what your nightmares are made of.
Friday, I convinced Fit Andrew and Lisa to join me at Zumba. I had a good time by myself the other week, but I want to enjoy the experience with friends and they are lucky enough to have been chosen. Plus Shaina is teaching which is always a good time. We get there to discover that it is, in fact, not Shaina teaching. A sub is covering, but Lisa and I think she's pretty awesome. Andrew, on the other hand, sulks and complains that he doesn't feel comfortable until about halfway through when he finally decides to enjoy himself.
Saturday, I wake up early and go to spin at 7:30 with Best Friend Rachel. It's nice to have someone so suffer with during spin. After spin, I head to CX Worx. Rachel has a wedding to get to, so she doesn't stay. But CX Worx coupled with spin and how sore my shoulders are from that stupid inchworm means I spend the rest of the day feeling exhausted, which isn't ideal when you work a double.
Now, I've learned something significant that I feel the need to share. I've found that it's my attitude to certain situations that really shapes my experience. I can whine and complain about how much I hate exercise and my experience has shown me that I'll leave that workout in a bad mood. Look at Andrew: he felt uncomfortable in Zumba. but as soon as he decided to have fun, he had fun. So I'll spend the coming week choosing to enjoy things that I may not be enjoying, and we'll see what happens. Maybe everything will not seem so miserable. I'm hopeful. I'm also going to post more pictures.
The bizarre and often hilarious experiences of an overweight person trying out the gym
Showing posts with label spin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spin. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Shenanigans...
Given the amount of traffic on my last post, I've decided to constantly hit you with my vulnerability. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I'm using my vulnerability as a weapon. Which makes me sound awful but all I really mean to say is that if my most popular posts are ones that I am convinced will be embarrassing and they are the ones that people appreciate the most, maybe I need to suck it up and take a few risks. We'll see how that manifests itself in the coming days.
Thursday night was a generally successful training session. At least as far as I can remember. That's the downside to waiting to post until the day after (or sometimes six days after) a session: I tend to forget what actually happened. I do remember doing my first ever real bench presses, however. So cross that off of my bucket list. Interesting that it took me eight months to work up to what I consider to be a very standard exercise to do at the gym. Maybe this is reflective of my procrastinating nature, but I can't take all the blame. Justin had sixteen sessions prior to this one to have me do some bench pressing and he chose not too. Maybe I was not mentally prepared for the challenge of bench pressing. Who knows.
I also remember that I went to CX Works again. Only this time I dragged Fit Andrew along. Thank goodness he was willing to go with me because Best Friend Rachel was not. Let me preface the following with this statement: I am proud of all the work that I have done. That statement does not make it easier to sit through a half hour class where I mentally convince myself that I can't physically do some of the things required. I'm choosing to phrase it that way because Justin is constantly telling me that the reason I can't do things like wall sits or hovers is more a result of my brain not thinking I can rather than my body actually being unable to do it.
And this is why I hate Fit Andrew, on occasion. He can basically do anything. I've come to CX Works a couple of times and while I have seen improvement, a lot of the time I'm simply collapsed in a heap on the floor rather than actually exercising. And he struts in having never taken the class before and mildly breaks a sweat on one exercise. It's not fair for me to hold that against him; he's put in the work in the past. But that doesn't make it any easier to be the person sitting next to him who can only do two leg extensions before having to take a break.
Here's the problem I continually come up against: despite knowing that there is no point in comparing myself to someone who is leaps and bounds ahead of where I am in the great world of physical fitness, I do it anyways. Who is going to feel successful when comparing accomplishments against someone with a very obvious advantage. I can't even run a mile so why on earth would I compare myself to a person who runs marathons. They can do twenty six more miles than I can. No duh. Because they've trained. They didn't start out running twenty six miles. But I still get mad that I can't do that! I'm telling you, it makes no logical sense.
Fortunately or unfortunately logic doesn't really come into play at the gym. By all logic I would not want to try lifting 150 or 200 lbs just for the sake of proving I can. At the gym people do it constantly. Other animals simply get there exercise by going about living. Humans run with no purpose other than to burn calories. That is not logical by the laws of nature. There is no physical destination that we are running towards. Just the promise of a healthier body.
On Saturday, I make every attempt to start my day off as healthily as possible. This three day weekend promises to feature a lot of food and I feel the need to preemptively burn calories. I try to wake up by 7:00 to get to the gym for a class at 7:30. Not only do I wake up a mere fifteen minutes before the class starts, but by the time I get there and see that I have no clue who the teacher is, I psych myself out and can't make myself go into the studio. My trip is almost in vain except that I force myself to do some seated rows and bicep curls. A grand total of fifteen minutes of exercise when it should have been an hour.
I go home and waste some time. I still have plans to go to spin at 10:00 after I get my oil changed. I head to Jiffy Lube with what I think is enough time to get my oil changed and have time to spare, but apparently everyone and there mother (literally, there was a mother/daughter pair) wanted their oil changed. So I make it to the gym several minutes after spin starts. I am not one to enter late to anything, so I decide to just do the treadmill and then leave.
Apparently anger is a great motivator (though I'll also attribute some of it to the wonderful music of Robyn). I start off by jogging for three solid minutes. Three minutes! I take a two minute walk break and then jog for two minutes! A two minute walk break and then one minute of jogging! Then I stick to one minute increments because I'm tired. But with all of that motivation I do a mile in just over twelve minutes. Now that's an accomplishment I can be proud of.
I don't quite make two miles by the end of my walk/run because I walk for the last ten minutes of my thirty minutes. I leave the gym proud of my accomplishment, though still disappointed in the lack of success based on my intended plan for the day. Sometimes you have to roll with the punches and fit in whatever exercise you can. So there are my wise words for the day. Take it or leave it.
Thursday night was a generally successful training session. At least as far as I can remember. That's the downside to waiting to post until the day after (or sometimes six days after) a session: I tend to forget what actually happened. I do remember doing my first ever real bench presses, however. So cross that off of my bucket list. Interesting that it took me eight months to work up to what I consider to be a very standard exercise to do at the gym. Maybe this is reflective of my procrastinating nature, but I can't take all the blame. Justin had sixteen sessions prior to this one to have me do some bench pressing and he chose not too. Maybe I was not mentally prepared for the challenge of bench pressing. Who knows.
I also remember that I went to CX Works again. Only this time I dragged Fit Andrew along. Thank goodness he was willing to go with me because Best Friend Rachel was not. Let me preface the following with this statement: I am proud of all the work that I have done. That statement does not make it easier to sit through a half hour class where I mentally convince myself that I can't physically do some of the things required. I'm choosing to phrase it that way because Justin is constantly telling me that the reason I can't do things like wall sits or hovers is more a result of my brain not thinking I can rather than my body actually being unable to do it.
And this is why I hate Fit Andrew, on occasion. He can basically do anything. I've come to CX Works a couple of times and while I have seen improvement, a lot of the time I'm simply collapsed in a heap on the floor rather than actually exercising. And he struts in having never taken the class before and mildly breaks a sweat on one exercise. It's not fair for me to hold that against him; he's put in the work in the past. But that doesn't make it any easier to be the person sitting next to him who can only do two leg extensions before having to take a break.
Here's the problem I continually come up against: despite knowing that there is no point in comparing myself to someone who is leaps and bounds ahead of where I am in the great world of physical fitness, I do it anyways. Who is going to feel successful when comparing accomplishments against someone with a very obvious advantage. I can't even run a mile so why on earth would I compare myself to a person who runs marathons. They can do twenty six more miles than I can. No duh. Because they've trained. They didn't start out running twenty six miles. But I still get mad that I can't do that! I'm telling you, it makes no logical sense.
Fortunately or unfortunately logic doesn't really come into play at the gym. By all logic I would not want to try lifting 150 or 200 lbs just for the sake of proving I can. At the gym people do it constantly. Other animals simply get there exercise by going about living. Humans run with no purpose other than to burn calories. That is not logical by the laws of nature. There is no physical destination that we are running towards. Just the promise of a healthier body.
On Saturday, I make every attempt to start my day off as healthily as possible. This three day weekend promises to feature a lot of food and I feel the need to preemptively burn calories. I try to wake up by 7:00 to get to the gym for a class at 7:30. Not only do I wake up a mere fifteen minutes before the class starts, but by the time I get there and see that I have no clue who the teacher is, I psych myself out and can't make myself go into the studio. My trip is almost in vain except that I force myself to do some seated rows and bicep curls. A grand total of fifteen minutes of exercise when it should have been an hour.
I go home and waste some time. I still have plans to go to spin at 10:00 after I get my oil changed. I head to Jiffy Lube with what I think is enough time to get my oil changed and have time to spare, but apparently everyone and there mother (literally, there was a mother/daughter pair) wanted their oil changed. So I make it to the gym several minutes after spin starts. I am not one to enter late to anything, so I decide to just do the treadmill and then leave.
Apparently anger is a great motivator (though I'll also attribute some of it to the wonderful music of Robyn). I start off by jogging for three solid minutes. Three minutes! I take a two minute walk break and then jog for two minutes! A two minute walk break and then one minute of jogging! Then I stick to one minute increments because I'm tired. But with all of that motivation I do a mile in just over twelve minutes. Now that's an accomplishment I can be proud of.
I don't quite make two miles by the end of my walk/run because I walk for the last ten minutes of my thirty minutes. I leave the gym proud of my accomplishment, though still disappointed in the lack of success based on my intended plan for the day. Sometimes you have to roll with the punches and fit in whatever exercise you can. So there are my wise words for the day. Take it or leave it.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Twice...
Let me begin by saying I did not forget about you, nor did I fall off the wagon. Though, if I did fall off, my hope is that my family would press on because heaven's knows I'd end up getting diphtheria or typhoid fever and we wouldn't make it to Oregon. At any rate, the past several days have been incredibly busy and my blogging about my experiences took a back seat. But I'm back up and ready to go.
My not so triumphant return to Pilates was Thursday the 11th. Having not been to Pilates since January, I expected things to be completely miserable the entire time. I was surprised to find that it was only about half the time. We begin with planking and are shown a four minute routine that is really easy to do at home. Honestly, it's only four minutes long and I think I can convince myself to suffer through four minutes a day. Maybe I'll actually do it. It's fun to see some people I haven't seen in a while, almost like a Pilates homecoming.
The joy stops there. I'm instantly thrown back into the hectic Pilates workout and this particular workout features many moves that are incredibly difficult. And many of these moves feature the dreaded Pilates ring. That resistance ring that is placed either between your thighs or your ankles and makes the world seem like an awful place. The tragedy of the whole situation is that a lot of the moves we do with the ring are the same move we normally do. The ring simply makes them more difficult (which is the point, I guess). That doesn't make it any easier.
After Pilates class on Thursday, I have Saturday Pilates to look forward to. Ashley, a friend of mine I met while in college (she designed costumes for two shows that I was in) will be joining me and I am really excited. I have also decided that I will be attending the spin class at 7:30 on Saturday. Surprisingly, when my alarm goes off at 6:45, I'm ready to go and enthusiastically get my stuff together. I have mildly forced Fit Andrew to come with me to spin class I'm excited to have someone to suffer through class with me. Friends make it easier.
Spin is tough, but good. It's a class that I definitely enjoy more each time I go. Andrew isn't all to jazzed about it, but what can I do about that? I have to run him home before Pilates class starts (because carpooling seemed to be a great idea). I get the start time of Pilates wrong and end up having to waste some time doing nothing but playing games on my iPhone for twenty minutes.
Ashley arrives and I, being the wonderful person that I am, make her sit in the very front row. She's a trooper during the entire class (which somehow seems more difficult than Thursday's). More than once we laugh about the things we have to do, which I choose to take as a sign that she's enjoying herself. There are also two other gentlemen taking the class and it's a nice change of pace to not be the only male in class.
After class (which Ashley totally did enjoy) I head home because I have plans to go into Boston and see Jurassic Park in 3D. Which is amazing. I spend the rest of the day feeling really awesome because I not only spent some time with friends seeing an awesome movie, but I went to two classes in one day. I am a machine.
My not so triumphant return to Pilates was Thursday the 11th. Having not been to Pilates since January, I expected things to be completely miserable the entire time. I was surprised to find that it was only about half the time. We begin with planking and are shown a four minute routine that is really easy to do at home. Honestly, it's only four minutes long and I think I can convince myself to suffer through four minutes a day. Maybe I'll actually do it. It's fun to see some people I haven't seen in a while, almost like a Pilates homecoming.
The joy stops there. I'm instantly thrown back into the hectic Pilates workout and this particular workout features many moves that are incredibly difficult. And many of these moves feature the dreaded Pilates ring. That resistance ring that is placed either between your thighs or your ankles and makes the world seem like an awful place. The tragedy of the whole situation is that a lot of the moves we do with the ring are the same move we normally do. The ring simply makes them more difficult (which is the point, I guess). That doesn't make it any easier.
After Pilates class on Thursday, I have Saturday Pilates to look forward to. Ashley, a friend of mine I met while in college (she designed costumes for two shows that I was in) will be joining me and I am really excited. I have also decided that I will be attending the spin class at 7:30 on Saturday. Surprisingly, when my alarm goes off at 6:45, I'm ready to go and enthusiastically get my stuff together. I have mildly forced Fit Andrew to come with me to spin class I'm excited to have someone to suffer through class with me. Friends make it easier.
Spin is tough, but good. It's a class that I definitely enjoy more each time I go. Andrew isn't all to jazzed about it, but what can I do about that? I have to run him home before Pilates class starts (because carpooling seemed to be a great idea). I get the start time of Pilates wrong and end up having to waste some time doing nothing but playing games on my iPhone for twenty minutes.
Ashley arrives and I, being the wonderful person that I am, make her sit in the very front row. She's a trooper during the entire class (which somehow seems more difficult than Thursday's). More than once we laugh about the things we have to do, which I choose to take as a sign that she's enjoying herself. There are also two other gentlemen taking the class and it's a nice change of pace to not be the only male in class.
After class (which Ashley totally did enjoy) I head home because I have plans to go into Boston and see Jurassic Park in 3D. Which is amazing. I spend the rest of the day feeling really awesome because I not only spent some time with friends seeing an awesome movie, but I went to two classes in one day. I am a machine.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Pedal...
It's 7AM and I hate the world. Who wants to wake up at 7 on a Saturday? Not this guy. I'm exhausted from the night before and I want nothing more than to wrap my self up like a burrito (from Chipotle... delicious) and go back to bed until the more normal hour of 11. But alas, it is not meant to be. I force myself up because today is my first time attending a spin class. Ryann convinced me it would be a good idea and so I set my alarm leaving enough time to wake up, get dressed and speed down to the gym before class starts at 7:30.
Now, why have I been so hesitant to try out a spin class? Let me tell you. The equipment scared the crap out of me. As a fat person, I have broken my share of furniture. Just ask Fit Andrew's sister Sarah. That poor chair. I am terrified that this bike, while made for the purpose of exercise, will not be able to support me. Believe it or not, you can be too fat to use a piece of exercise equipment (thanks for nothing, Wii Fit). Who's to say this bike won't crumble when I sit down or when I'm supposed to stand on the bike and pedal like I'm going uphill? Unless you're the manufacturer, that person is not you, so don't get too excited.
I enter the room of death (that's how I will be referring to the spin room for the remainder of the post) and do not recognize anyone other than Ryann. I honestly don't even know where to start. Forget the old colloquialism of 'it's like riding a bike' because it's riding a bike that's not meant to go anywhere. It's a completely different thing.
Thankfully, Ryann is helping someone else who's new (I love you, other new person) and I don't have to worry about being the only first-timer. She teaches us the gear-shifting and where our seats and handle bars should be and then we get started. Okay, this should be fine. If I need to, I can pretend (thanks to my acting training) to shift to a harder gear.
Song starts, we start pedaling. Wow, it's a smooth ride. I try shifting up and down to see how things change. Nice. Not too scary. Until the song really gets going. Pedaling with the beat would be causing so much chafing that I might need to be hospitalized. So I go as fast as I can while preserving my thigh skin. And it's still really fast. Within minutes, my legs burn. And here comes a 'push it' section where we're supposed to stand. Holy crap, this bike is going to tip over and I'm going to be decapitated and everyone in this room will be so traumatized that they'll never exercise again, but no. The bike incredibly remains upright. Cool.
Now spin class is very repetitive, so allow me to pull out some highlights for you. First, about twenty minutes into the fifty minute workout, I start to regret my decision to not bring water or a towel. Not only is my sweat flying, but I am thirsty to the point where I actual think I could be in danger. I know that sounds serious, and it is because hydration is important, but keep in mind that I tend to exaggerate. So I make to the decision at the end of the song to go to the locker room and grab the empty water bottle I brought (honestly, I was really stupid) fill it up, and grab the extra shirt I brought to use as a towel. I then head back into the room of death. Hopefully Ryann didn't worry about me leaving and didn't think I was quitting. Don't care too much and don't care too little. It's a fine line.
Towards the end of the workout, we're on our second to last song and it's a really tough one. It's got a lot of gear changes and a lot of standing and sitting and pedaling really fast. Now, I in no way fault Ryann for what happens next; she's doing exactly what she's supposed to do. In order to get us to push hard, she simply utters this sentence: "Come on push it, we're all here for a reason." In my vulnerable state (I have been on a bike for essentially 40 minutes at this point) I let that statement sink in. I think, 'Yeah, I am here for a reason. I'm sick of being a fat person and of feeling like I'm missing out on life. I'm sick of not going to the beach because I don't want to take my shirt off. I'm sick of not playing sports because I don't think I can run. I waited until I turned 26 to take my life back and that was the dumbest thing I could have done.'
So I start crying. And this is not an exaggeration. I'm not full on uncontrollably weeping, but tears are coming and I can't look up because I don't want other people to see. I'm keeping my head down and crying because I'm mad that I didn't care about myself enough to do this sooner. I'm mad because I was for some reason okay with not living my life to the fullest. And I have no one to blame but myself. Dammit now Coldplay comes on so I start crying more. On a spin bike is not necessarily the most ideal time to have an epiphany of such a caliber.
Class is over and immediately I look back and think my situation is hilarious. I was just crying on a bike in a spin class. And it's okay if you want to laugh, too. It's a funny picture. But my actual thoughts are sticking with me and this is becoming about more than just a thing I do to blog about. I'm telling you, exercise does amazing things to not just your body, but to your mind. Also, a guy from the spin class tells me he's read my blog and likes it, so feeling like a celebrity is a pretty decent side effect of all this.
Now, why have I been so hesitant to try out a spin class? Let me tell you. The equipment scared the crap out of me. As a fat person, I have broken my share of furniture. Just ask Fit Andrew's sister Sarah. That poor chair. I am terrified that this bike, while made for the purpose of exercise, will not be able to support me. Believe it or not, you can be too fat to use a piece of exercise equipment (thanks for nothing, Wii Fit). Who's to say this bike won't crumble when I sit down or when I'm supposed to stand on the bike and pedal like I'm going uphill? Unless you're the manufacturer, that person is not you, so don't get too excited.
I enter the room of death (that's how I will be referring to the spin room for the remainder of the post) and do not recognize anyone other than Ryann. I honestly don't even know where to start. Forget the old colloquialism of 'it's like riding a bike' because it's riding a bike that's not meant to go anywhere. It's a completely different thing.
Thankfully, Ryann is helping someone else who's new (I love you, other new person) and I don't have to worry about being the only first-timer. She teaches us the gear-shifting and where our seats and handle bars should be and then we get started. Okay, this should be fine. If I need to, I can pretend (thanks to my acting training) to shift to a harder gear.
Song starts, we start pedaling. Wow, it's a smooth ride. I try shifting up and down to see how things change. Nice. Not too scary. Until the song really gets going. Pedaling with the beat would be causing so much chafing that I might need to be hospitalized. So I go as fast as I can while preserving my thigh skin. And it's still really fast. Within minutes, my legs burn. And here comes a 'push it' section where we're supposed to stand. Holy crap, this bike is going to tip over and I'm going to be decapitated and everyone in this room will be so traumatized that they'll never exercise again, but no. The bike incredibly remains upright. Cool.
Now spin class is very repetitive, so allow me to pull out some highlights for you. First, about twenty minutes into the fifty minute workout, I start to regret my decision to not bring water or a towel. Not only is my sweat flying, but I am thirsty to the point where I actual think I could be in danger. I know that sounds serious, and it is because hydration is important, but keep in mind that I tend to exaggerate. So I make to the decision at the end of the song to go to the locker room and grab the empty water bottle I brought (honestly, I was really stupid) fill it up, and grab the extra shirt I brought to use as a towel. I then head back into the room of death. Hopefully Ryann didn't worry about me leaving and didn't think I was quitting. Don't care too much and don't care too little. It's a fine line.
Towards the end of the workout, we're on our second to last song and it's a really tough one. It's got a lot of gear changes and a lot of standing and sitting and pedaling really fast. Now, I in no way fault Ryann for what happens next; she's doing exactly what she's supposed to do. In order to get us to push hard, she simply utters this sentence: "Come on push it, we're all here for a reason." In my vulnerable state (I have been on a bike for essentially 40 minutes at this point) I let that statement sink in. I think, 'Yeah, I am here for a reason. I'm sick of being a fat person and of feeling like I'm missing out on life. I'm sick of not going to the beach because I don't want to take my shirt off. I'm sick of not playing sports because I don't think I can run. I waited until I turned 26 to take my life back and that was the dumbest thing I could have done.'
So I start crying. And this is not an exaggeration. I'm not full on uncontrollably weeping, but tears are coming and I can't look up because I don't want other people to see. I'm keeping my head down and crying because I'm mad that I didn't care about myself enough to do this sooner. I'm mad because I was for some reason okay with not living my life to the fullest. And I have no one to blame but myself. Dammit now Coldplay comes on so I start crying more. On a spin bike is not necessarily the most ideal time to have an epiphany of such a caliber.
Class is over and immediately I look back and think my situation is hilarious. I was just crying on a bike in a spin class. And it's okay if you want to laugh, too. It's a funny picture. But my actual thoughts are sticking with me and this is becoming about more than just a thing I do to blog about. I'm telling you, exercise does amazing things to not just your body, but to your mind. Also, a guy from the spin class tells me he's read my blog and likes it, so feeling like a celebrity is a pretty decent side effect of all this.
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