OK, so I’m not one to obsess about my weight. Most of the time I’m too busy with life to think about it much.
I don’t diet – never have. I just know myself and know what I’m willing to do to keep my weight in check and eating very little is not one of them.
I like to chow. :)
I gained VERY little weight during my pregnancy – I actually lost weight the first 20 weeks and then finally gained only 20 pounds by 37 weeks when I had the Bub. And pregnancy did something fantastically awesome to my metabolism – within just a few months, I was well under my prepregnancy weight. And within a year I weighed less than I had been in years.
And then I really started blogging. (Enter the “dun dun duunnnnnnn” here.) And within a few months it had all gone to you know where.
To my butt.
I seriously don’t get it – at first, I was like, yeah, I’m on the computer a lot. But then when I thought about it more, I was perplexed. In my old life, I sat at a computer pretty much seven hours a day. And the other hour we were eating lunch. ;)
Factor in another one and a half hours of commute time every day, and I was sitting on my booty a whole heck of a lot more than I do now.
So what in the heck?
Let me clarify here – I’m only about 15 pounds overweight. It’s not bad, I know. But lately I’ve realized I just need to take better care of myself – eat a bit better, work out more often, all that good stuff.
So even though we have work out equipment in our basement, there was something about the gym that was calling me back. We joined a nearby gym last week and I’ve been totally gung ho about going.
I went Monday and Tuesday and got my butt whooped by the elliptical machine. I used to be one of those annoying women you see who go at a 7.2 speed, not holding on to the railings. And not sweating a drop.
Ummm…no more. I’ve barely made it out alive this week at 15 minutes each time, drenched. But at least I’m doing it, right? RIGHT?
So this week I decided to take advantage of the free hour with a trainer that came with our membership.
Big mistake. HUGE.
I was already feeling the affects of working out harder than I had in months – and I hesitated to go but thought I just needed to do it. I was motivated! I was going to get BUFF!! I was hallucinating!
I met my trainer and he was such a nice guy, so friendly! We sat and chatted about my goals, timeline, all that good stuff. I was feeling good!
I totally had this image in my head:
See how happy they are? She’s working out but she’s happy and feeling a little burn – just enough to know it’s working. He’s so funny and nice and you see that smile? All nice and supportive?
Mr. Trainer and I talked about the areas I wanted to target. Then I told him I had great success losing weight in the past by using the weight machines consistently.
He smiled and told me how right I was – it was so important to work your muscles. All nice and friendly like.
He told me to warm up on the treadmill for about ten minutes and we’d get started afterwards. “We’ll take it easy on you today, no worries!”
The man lies like a rug. A big, muscular, smiling, rug.
It was some of the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. I was begging for mercy. Not out loud, but in my head. Out loud I was smiling through my gritted teeth, trying so hard not to punch him in the nose with every “PUSH THROUGH!”
Mr. Smiley Trainer now looked like this to me:
I am not a wus peeps. I have a very high pain threshold. And by the end I was cussing like a sailor in my head. And then I realized I was saying it out loud.
At the end Mr. Evil Trainer-Annoying-Smiley-Face was trying to get me to use these:
Furniture sliders – under my hands and toes and do these contortions on the floor. I’m serious. Are you freaking kidding me?
He wasn’t. And I was done. And I was blinded by the sweat that was pouring into my eyes. And there he was smiling.
I looked like this:
He still looked like this:
And I wanted to poke him in the eye. And the best part – we didn’t use ONE weight machine (which I really wanted to do). It was all lunge, squat, contortions-on-the-floor crap.
I don’t know if it was some kind of I’m-insane-adrenaline-rush or what, but I told him I’d sign up for more sessions. Then I went to cool down on the treadmill and when I tried to walk back down the stairs to go pay the Mr. Insane-Smiley-Trainer-Man, I realized I couldn’t.
My legs wouldn’t function to walk down the stairs. I wasn’t sure what to do. So I gripped the handrail and took baby steps down the steps, like either a 90-year-old or a 2-year-old. You pick. It was amazingly awesome.
I decided to see how I felt today to decide if I’d go ahead and pay for more sessions. And I’ve decided to politely decline. ;)
Today I am in pain like I’ve never known. He said he’d take it easier on me next time. I don’t believe him.
I’m going to stick to the boring stuff – treadmill, elliptical, anything other than him. Please God, anything other than him. Mr. Smiley-Face whatever. Maybe someday I'll forget about the pain and go back to him. Maybe. Maybe not.
So tell me – have you used a trainer? Loved it? Hated it? Did you stick with it? Do you send your trainer Christmas cards or do you have nightmares about them? Do tell!
**I am sure my trainer is perfectly awesome and I am quite sure there are plenty of amazing trainers out there. He was not for me, but if you are amazing and nice and won't try to kill me with squats, I would love to work with you. ;)
For a giggle – check out a funny story one of my reader’s shared with me here. :)
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