You'd think after going to bed at 8:45 it would be easy to wake up after ten hours of sleep. But when my alarm goes off at 7:00, all I want is more sleep. So I reset it for 7:15 and wake up at 7:45 because awful things happen to me constantly. So I rush to pack my gym bag and walk open the front door of the club right at 8:00. No time to warm up whatsoever. Wow, what an ideal situation!
I guess Justin has some sympathy because we seem to start a little slower, today, first with some stretching and then some squats and side stepping. And then things get interesting. Apparently I'm training to be a trapeze artist because Justin pulls out these handles and anchors them to a bar about eight feet in the air. The handles themselves hang about four feet from the ground and I'm supposed to lean back and do a squat and then pull the handles to my chest. Kind of like a reverse push-up, if you will. This paired with standing on the ball and I almost have a full circus show. I'm supposed to do this for a minute, then do a minute of jumping jacks, and fifteen bicep curls.
I have to do this a total of three times and I am not in a very compliant mood because I hate having to rush things. I didn't feel prepared to come in and work out because I didn't get the time to warm up. I didn't realize how important that ritual has become for me. Plus, I feel incredibly unstable every time I'm on the trapeze (at least that's what I'm calling it) because my hands slip and I feel like at any moment I'll fall backwards and become severely injured.
I voice this concern to Justin who assures me that I will not fall and that I'll keep myself up almost solely with willpower. And you know what? I believe him. And I don't fall. I wouldn't say I particularly excel, but I made myself finish and a little seed of pride is planted.
I desperately hold on to that seed because if there's one thing I hate more than planking, its jumping jacks. Every time I jump, all I notice is my belly and boobs bouncing. It makes me mad. Even though I have the sense of accomplishment that comes with losing 35 pounds, I still have many to go. It's easy to be mad about how difficult exercises are and blame the fact that I didn't start this earlier. It's easy to think that I'll never get better at it and that this is the best I can do.
But that would be stupid because it's amazing what I've accomplished all because I was determined to do it. Plus I'm getting remeasured on Tuesday and I want to see results! At the conclusion of my session, I opt for the treadmill and sweat through twenty minutes before I'm ready to go home and collapse. But first I stop and say hi to Skinny Matt because I haven't seen him in a while. It's weird to have friends I only know through the gym. I never thought I'd be one of those people.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Social...
Thank goodness it's Friday because it has been a long week. I am so tired. Tired enough to skip the gym. But thankfully none of my friends are free and so instead of sitting home bored for the night, I decide to go to the gym. Interesting how things work out that way. But please, don't intentionally not hang out with me on a Friday because you think I won't go to the gym. Some days I'm happy to go to the gym before hang out time.
I get to the gym and the butterflies are hopping around. I have to be entirely self motivating tonight. I know I've done it before, but for some reason it seems incredibly intense tonight. Truth be told I'm not good at personal motivation. Why do you think I spent the first twenty five years of my life as a fat person? It's because I didn't have the motivation to do anything about it. Often times the only reason I complete the reps that Just has me do is because he's there yelling at me the whole time. And suddenly I find that I'm the only person responsible for myself, today.
One step at a time. The first thing I have to do is warm up and I constantly do this by myself, so why on earth would I not be able to do it this time? (I'll tell you why: it's because I can be incredibly lazy). But what do you know? Boom. I finish it. And then I move on to the thrusts. This is where I know I'm going to have a hard time forcing myself to keep going. I'm supposed to do four sets of fifteen with a minute of rest in between sets. At six, my arms are tired so I stop. But only for a few seconds.
I do nine more. And when it's time to start a new set, I force my self to do all fifteen at once. This is what determination does to you. For my third set, I stop at ten, rest for about thirty seconds, do ten more, rest for thirty seconds and end with another ten. I hope slight modifications are okay because I just modified. Like a boss.
Despite it being fairly empty, inevitably two fit people find it necessary to do their exercises next to where I am. Thanks, thanks a bunch for making me feel weak. I move on to my leg presses and then on into the weight room for chest presses. This time I have to select a bench that's next to some other guy who is also doing chest presses, only with significantly heavier weights. Congrats you can do presses with 80 pound dumbbells!
I hate feeling insecure or inadequate. Not that I know anyone who enjoys that feeling but it is a feeling that can really make it hard to keep pushing yourself. I don't want to look like I'm struggling with thirty pound dumbbells while you are doing presses with nearly three times as much weight. I do want to punch you, though, so by all means, keep doing what you're doing. But prepare to suffer the consequences.
Thankfully I have self control and don't end up spending the night in prison for aggravated assault. Instead after my reps I go to the pool for a swim. It's been a while since I've been in the pool and it appears that they want it to have a little more of a tropical feel. They now have a ton of plants and dolphin shower curtains. Fancy. I do about a half mile before I'm ready to leave. And then, because I can, I come home and go to bed at 8:45 on a Friday night. Seriously. I'm that lame.
I get to the gym and the butterflies are hopping around. I have to be entirely self motivating tonight. I know I've done it before, but for some reason it seems incredibly intense tonight. Truth be told I'm not good at personal motivation. Why do you think I spent the first twenty five years of my life as a fat person? It's because I didn't have the motivation to do anything about it. Often times the only reason I complete the reps that Just has me do is because he's there yelling at me the whole time. And suddenly I find that I'm the only person responsible for myself, today.
One step at a time. The first thing I have to do is warm up and I constantly do this by myself, so why on earth would I not be able to do it this time? (I'll tell you why: it's because I can be incredibly lazy). But what do you know? Boom. I finish it. And then I move on to the thrusts. This is where I know I'm going to have a hard time forcing myself to keep going. I'm supposed to do four sets of fifteen with a minute of rest in between sets. At six, my arms are tired so I stop. But only for a few seconds.
I do nine more. And when it's time to start a new set, I force my self to do all fifteen at once. This is what determination does to you. For my third set, I stop at ten, rest for about thirty seconds, do ten more, rest for thirty seconds and end with another ten. I hope slight modifications are okay because I just modified. Like a boss.
Despite it being fairly empty, inevitably two fit people find it necessary to do their exercises next to where I am. Thanks, thanks a bunch for making me feel weak. I move on to my leg presses and then on into the weight room for chest presses. This time I have to select a bench that's next to some other guy who is also doing chest presses, only with significantly heavier weights. Congrats you can do presses with 80 pound dumbbells!
I hate feeling insecure or inadequate. Not that I know anyone who enjoys that feeling but it is a feeling that can really make it hard to keep pushing yourself. I don't want to look like I'm struggling with thirty pound dumbbells while you are doing presses with nearly three times as much weight. I do want to punch you, though, so by all means, keep doing what you're doing. But prepare to suffer the consequences.
Thankfully I have self control and don't end up spending the night in prison for aggravated assault. Instead after my reps I go to the pool for a swim. It's been a while since I've been in the pool and it appears that they want it to have a little more of a tropical feel. They now have a ton of plants and dolphin shower curtains. Fancy. I do about a half mile before I'm ready to leave. And then, because I can, I come home and go to bed at 8:45 on a Friday night. Seriously. I'm that lame.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Chatter...
Now that Oscar season is officially over, my life can get back to normal and I can start really kicking the personal training in to high gear. Disappointment abounds as I load up my gym bag (still using that trusty Target bag) and head to my car for my session with Justin. I have once again failed to work out at all during the weekend. And no excuse is good enough. I simply didn't do it.
My usual elliptical machine is taken so I have to use a different one. I'm kind of excited because it's the one that is more natural with the arm motions and therefore slightly easier to stay balanced on while I'm using it. Nicki Minaj even puts a little spring in my step as I crush a half mile in eight minutes. Not awesome, but progress.
Justin is finishing up with some lady so I go to put my phone away and meet him back in the cardio room, which we immediately leave to head to the weight room. And we start with leg presses. Justin must have picked up on the fact that it's much easier for me to have the distraction of conversation to get me through things because he prompts me to give him my opinion of the Oscar winners. I'm happy that Jennifer Lawrence won but my ballot was destroyed. I only got fourteen of the twenty four categories correct. That's miserable.
During push ups we talk about the Best Picture nominees and which one I liked best (my top three were Argo, Beasts of the Southern Wild, and Silver Linings Playbook) and therefore which movies Justin should see. Clearly all of them, though Lincoln was PAINFULLY boring. I get a wonderful compliment when Justin says he needs to lower the bar because I'm getting stronger, which is alternately depressing because it reminds me that the difficulty should stay the same, even if you get better. You have to continue to make it harder otherwise you're not getting much out of it.
During squats we talk about proper squat form, which is a thing. And apparently it's a thing that I haven't really been doing right. I tend to have most of my weight forward, which is wrong. Your weight should be over your heals and your butt should be sticking way out. I have to say, it's much easier the way I used to do it, but I'll get stronger, I suppose.
Then I have to do side hovers and planks on some weird half-ball plate thing which makes me feel like I'm wicked clumsy and going to die even though I'm maybe two feet from the ground with my arms extended. It's incredibly unstable which makes me engage my core. I tell Justin all about the comedy shows that I watch on TV (there is the common theme of media in the topics) as I drip sweat everywhere and feel as though I am literally melting.
Trainers have it rough and I'll explain why. I don't know if I could stand to be around a person who is so ridiculously sweaty and therefore smelly. I can hardly stand it myself and I just do it for half an hour. Justin has who knows how many clients and presumably all of them get sweaty and, at times, smell horrible. That is true dedication and he and all trainers should be given special gifts for putting up with the rankness of others. So should group exercise teachers. By that logic so should I, because in group classes I'm subjected to the smells other people give off. So where's my gift?
At the conclusion of the workout, I pick treadmill for my cardio. Justin tells me I did a good job tonight, which feels amazing after I spent the weekend being incredibly lazy and eating snacky foods. Same thing as last time for cardio, only I feel more adventurous so I start off jogging for my 30-second intervals. That adventurousness quickly goes away and I slow it down to a walk for the rest of my time. This is probably because I have to keep the incline up even when I'm on my 'rest' minute, though it's only at 4 instead of 7. Ladies and gentlemen, the treadmill can be a difficult workout if you let it. It just needs your permission.
My usual elliptical machine is taken so I have to use a different one. I'm kind of excited because it's the one that is more natural with the arm motions and therefore slightly easier to stay balanced on while I'm using it. Nicki Minaj even puts a little spring in my step as I crush a half mile in eight minutes. Not awesome, but progress.
Justin is finishing up with some lady so I go to put my phone away and meet him back in the cardio room, which we immediately leave to head to the weight room. And we start with leg presses. Justin must have picked up on the fact that it's much easier for me to have the distraction of conversation to get me through things because he prompts me to give him my opinion of the Oscar winners. I'm happy that Jennifer Lawrence won but my ballot was destroyed. I only got fourteen of the twenty four categories correct. That's miserable.
During push ups we talk about the Best Picture nominees and which one I liked best (my top three were Argo, Beasts of the Southern Wild, and Silver Linings Playbook) and therefore which movies Justin should see. Clearly all of them, though Lincoln was PAINFULLY boring. I get a wonderful compliment when Justin says he needs to lower the bar because I'm getting stronger, which is alternately depressing because it reminds me that the difficulty should stay the same, even if you get better. You have to continue to make it harder otherwise you're not getting much out of it.
During squats we talk about proper squat form, which is a thing. And apparently it's a thing that I haven't really been doing right. I tend to have most of my weight forward, which is wrong. Your weight should be over your heals and your butt should be sticking way out. I have to say, it's much easier the way I used to do it, but I'll get stronger, I suppose.
Then I have to do side hovers and planks on some weird half-ball plate thing which makes me feel like I'm wicked clumsy and going to die even though I'm maybe two feet from the ground with my arms extended. It's incredibly unstable which makes me engage my core. I tell Justin all about the comedy shows that I watch on TV (there is the common theme of media in the topics) as I drip sweat everywhere and feel as though I am literally melting.
Trainers have it rough and I'll explain why. I don't know if I could stand to be around a person who is so ridiculously sweaty and therefore smelly. I can hardly stand it myself and I just do it for half an hour. Justin has who knows how many clients and presumably all of them get sweaty and, at times, smell horrible. That is true dedication and he and all trainers should be given special gifts for putting up with the rankness of others. So should group exercise teachers. By that logic so should I, because in group classes I'm subjected to the smells other people give off. So where's my gift?
At the conclusion of the workout, I pick treadmill for my cardio. Justin tells me I did a good job tonight, which feels amazing after I spent the weekend being incredibly lazy and eating snacky foods. Same thing as last time for cardio, only I feel more adventurous so I start off jogging for my 30-second intervals. That adventurousness quickly goes away and I slow it down to a walk for the rest of my time. This is probably because I have to keep the incline up even when I'm on my 'rest' minute, though it's only at 4 instead of 7. Ladies and gentlemen, the treadmill can be a difficult workout if you let it. It just needs your permission.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Bear...
I may or may not have promised Justin that I would work out at 6:30 on Wednesday morning and I may or may not have actually gone to work out. I'm sure you'll be able to figure out which is actually correct by telling you that I was given a harder workout for not showing up at 6:30 like I told him I would. I agreed to it because I wasn't going to have time to go later that day with work, and I really did intend to go but I was really tired and so I slept. And exercise is one of those situations where it's not the thought that counts. If that were the case, we would all be skinny and muscular.
Justin comes over to me just shy of the ten minute mark of my warm up and practically threatens me by telling me he's gonna make me work hard after I skipped out on exercise yesterday. And that makes me scared. Thank goodness we head into the weight room because there is no way he would make me do ropes in the weight room. It's a real possibility that there would be an actual accidental death if anyone were to do the ropes.
Instead we go to the seated leg press machine. Great, we're starting with a machine that intimidates me. I guess I should be happy because I'll learn how to use it and it won't scare the crap out of me. Gotta find the positive in everything or you will go crazy. Life lessons, by Sam. Now this is an inclined or declined leg press, not the standard straight-on leg presses. I'm practically sitting on the floor and my legs are inclined almost forty-five degrees away from me. Justin has me start with forty reps on each leg with no added weight. They get to be quite strenuous by the end.
In between sets of leg presses I do my push ups. I'll say, I'm noticing improvements. I still can't do a full on push up, but I can get through my set of fifteen without having to pause. I ask Justin about any adjustments I can make when I'm doing them at home (because I don't have an adjustable bar at home) and he says that I should just come to the gym and do them. Fair point. It is only three minutes from my house.
For my last of three sets of leg presses, Justin makes me up the reps to fifty per leg instead of forty. By the end my legs are on fire. And my butt, too. One final set of push ups and onward we press to the cardio room, where I apparently am going to do the rowing machine. The rowing machine is another machine that absolutely terrifies me. Today is apparently a day of pushing me outside of my comfort zone. We'll see how I feel about it after my workout is complete.
Now, for those of you who have never used a rowing machine before, it looks fairly easy. After my introductory lesson about how to secure myself into the machine I realize that it isn't really that complicated of a machine. This is not to say that the exercise itself is easy. It's not. I have to keep my speed up and keep track of the number of calories I have burned before I can stop with the rowing. Apparently I start off a little too energetically because I literally bounce the machine due to the force with which I propel myself backwards. That's all I need, to have to replace a rowing machine that I break.
Thankfully it doesn't break. But I remain a little wary for the rest of my time on the machine (which, in case you were wondering is however long it takes to burn 10 calories as fast as I can). That is alternated with fifteen reps of dumbbell presses. And I can't turn either of those experiences into anything witty or fun, so just create a scenario in which there's a bear in the cardio room while I do these things. I'm sure it will be fascinating and full of adventure.
Interestingly enough, there was no bear at the gym, but there was a pair of crocs. Yes, crocs. Someone chose to wear crocs because apparently they are acceptable workout footwear. No. No they are not. So don't every be tempted. The only place crocs are acceptable is at the bottom of a trash barrel.
After my rowing and my pressing, I have twenty minutes of cardio that I have to do. Justin gives me the choice between cross trainer and treadmill and so I pick treadmill, because practically all I do is the elliptical nowadays. Remember how I said it was a day of living outside my comfort zone? True to that declaration, I have to mess with the incline of my treadmill. To increase the incline to stare fear in the face and say "please let me live." Can the thing even incline while I'm on it? I DON"T KNOW! I've never tried it before!
I liken this treadmill experience to playing Russian roulette. My workout consists of a minute of comfortable pace on level ground with thirty seconds of increased speed and incline so that I really have to work. Every time I hit that incline button and that speed up button it's like pulling the trigger of a gun. Will I die or will I live? Only destiny knows the answer. Clearly the answer is I live. I even get so bold that for my last thirty seconds of pushing, I jog.I never thought I would be jogging on a tread mill but here I am doing it with Ke$ha cheering me on all the way. It's exhilarating and I've never felt more alive.
I've also never felt more like I want to die. My body is sore and tired and all I want to do is curl up and go to bed. But first I must go up those awful stairs, get my protein shake and then go home. Best friend Rachel stops by with cookies because she's apparently determined to ruin any semblance of a healthy diet I had for today. Oh well. Occasionally you have to treat yourself. There's another wise saying for today. And yes, I totally did borrow from Parks and Recreation. Deal with it.
Justin comes over to me just shy of the ten minute mark of my warm up and practically threatens me by telling me he's gonna make me work hard after I skipped out on exercise yesterday. And that makes me scared. Thank goodness we head into the weight room because there is no way he would make me do ropes in the weight room. It's a real possibility that there would be an actual accidental death if anyone were to do the ropes.
Instead we go to the seated leg press machine. Great, we're starting with a machine that intimidates me. I guess I should be happy because I'll learn how to use it and it won't scare the crap out of me. Gotta find the positive in everything or you will go crazy. Life lessons, by Sam. Now this is an inclined or declined leg press, not the standard straight-on leg presses. I'm practically sitting on the floor and my legs are inclined almost forty-five degrees away from me. Justin has me start with forty reps on each leg with no added weight. They get to be quite strenuous by the end.
In between sets of leg presses I do my push ups. I'll say, I'm noticing improvements. I still can't do a full on push up, but I can get through my set of fifteen without having to pause. I ask Justin about any adjustments I can make when I'm doing them at home (because I don't have an adjustable bar at home) and he says that I should just come to the gym and do them. Fair point. It is only three minutes from my house.
For my last of three sets of leg presses, Justin makes me up the reps to fifty per leg instead of forty. By the end my legs are on fire. And my butt, too. One final set of push ups and onward we press to the cardio room, where I apparently am going to do the rowing machine. The rowing machine is another machine that absolutely terrifies me. Today is apparently a day of pushing me outside of my comfort zone. We'll see how I feel about it after my workout is complete.
Now, for those of you who have never used a rowing machine before, it looks fairly easy. After my introductory lesson about how to secure myself into the machine I realize that it isn't really that complicated of a machine. This is not to say that the exercise itself is easy. It's not. I have to keep my speed up and keep track of the number of calories I have burned before I can stop with the rowing. Apparently I start off a little too energetically because I literally bounce the machine due to the force with which I propel myself backwards. That's all I need, to have to replace a rowing machine that I break.
Thankfully it doesn't break. But I remain a little wary for the rest of my time on the machine (which, in case you were wondering is however long it takes to burn 10 calories as fast as I can). That is alternated with fifteen reps of dumbbell presses. And I can't turn either of those experiences into anything witty or fun, so just create a scenario in which there's a bear in the cardio room while I do these things. I'm sure it will be fascinating and full of adventure.
Interestingly enough, there was no bear at the gym, but there was a pair of crocs. Yes, crocs. Someone chose to wear crocs because apparently they are acceptable workout footwear. No. No they are not. So don't every be tempted. The only place crocs are acceptable is at the bottom of a trash barrel.
After my rowing and my pressing, I have twenty minutes of cardio that I have to do. Justin gives me the choice between cross trainer and treadmill and so I pick treadmill, because practically all I do is the elliptical nowadays. Remember how I said it was a day of living outside my comfort zone? True to that declaration, I have to mess with the incline of my treadmill. To increase the incline to stare fear in the face and say "please let me live." Can the thing even incline while I'm on it? I DON"T KNOW! I've never tried it before!
I liken this treadmill experience to playing Russian roulette. My workout consists of a minute of comfortable pace on level ground with thirty seconds of increased speed and incline so that I really have to work. Every time I hit that incline button and that speed up button it's like pulling the trigger of a gun. Will I die or will I live? Only destiny knows the answer. Clearly the answer is I live. I even get so bold that for my last thirty seconds of pushing, I jog.I never thought I would be jogging on a tread mill but here I am doing it with Ke$ha cheering me on all the way. It's exhilarating and I've never felt more alive.
I've also never felt more like I want to die. My body is sore and tired and all I want to do is curl up and go to bed. But first I must go up those awful stairs, get my protein shake and then go home. Best friend Rachel stops by with cookies because she's apparently determined to ruin any semblance of a healthy diet I had for today. Oh well. Occasionally you have to treat yourself. There's another wise saying for today. And yes, I totally did borrow from Parks and Recreation. Deal with it.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
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.
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?
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?
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