I've been saying I was going to do it for a few months now but it wasn't until Monday that I actually did it. I joined the gym and went.
I've needed to do this for myself for a long time. I've made so many excuses as to why I can't make it, why I shouldn't go, why something else is more important. But the simple fact is that there isn't much more important than being healthy - and I'm not healthy this way. That, and the other day when I thought someone was following me and turned around and realized it was just my ass, I knew something needed to be done.
I am fat. Crazy fat. Morbidly fat. Like, I could lose 100 pounds and not die.
That's as specific as I plan to get about my weight for right now. You understand.
So anyway, I went to the gym on Monday and brought my awesome friend, Julie. We had a great time walking on the treadmill, going through the express circuit weight training thing, and laughing. In the middle of the circuit a trainer named Omar came over to me to tell me "You're doing it wrong" and offer some helpful hints. I was feeling all gung-ho at the time so I booked a training session with him on Wednesday.
Afterward we treated ourselves to a beer at the sports bar around the corner and I left pumped and ready to go back the next day with another amazing friend of mine, Niki.
Niki is a different breed of girl. She's cute, blonde, athletic, and fit. She's the girl that comes into the gym and other girls give her the stink eye. She is like the epitome of motivation for me.
So Niki and I walk into the gym the next day and the guy behind the counter immediately starts flirting. Being with Niki is like walking into another dimension. It's like getting glasses that let you see into a whole other world that you've heard about but never truly experienced. I bet Niki has never paid for a drink in her entire life.
By the end of my workout with Niki I wanted to die. After we had finished our "warm-up" on the treadmill and then completed a vigorous session of the circuit weight training thing she looked straight at me and very seriously said "Are you ready to do cardio now?"
I told her I couldn't even look at her.
And on to the elliptical machine I climbed. It was an ass kicking and I was tired. But I left feeling good about what I had done and ready to come back for Omar the next day.
Wednesday I was treated to the pleasure of both Julie and Niki joining me for my session with Omar. Except Omar was engaged with another client and passed us all on to Stephen, who from here on out will be referred to as Sadist With A Nice Smile. SWANS for short.
SWANS had us warm up on the treadmill with an incline that reminded me vaguely of climbing a small mountain. When we were all done with that he handed us each a 10 pound weight and told us to climb the stairs. "No biggie" I thought... until he mentioned that we were to climb two steps at a time. That sucked. After that grueling hell, SWANS had us do stretches, and squats, and lunges, and floor work, and more squats, and more floor work, and I tried desperately not to pass out or puke or start crying and telling him about my childhood like a contestant on The Biggest Loser. Niki did not break a sweat.
After we were done with all that he said "Are you ready to do cardio now?"
I couldn't even look at SWANS.
Yesterday I felt as though my legs might fail me at any minute. Getting out of bed hurt, using the bathroom hurt, existing hurt. I did my errands and ran around with the kids, had a girl scout meeting and attempted not to cry through it all. I took yesterday off from the gym and hoped that I would wake up refreshed and ready to hit it again.
Y'all, it would take a vat of Tylenol to get rid of these muscle aches. But even though we were pressed for time, Julie and I braved the gym again today for at least a walk on the treadmill with a moderate incline.
While I know I won't be bikini ready for summer, I do feel good about doing something about getting rid of the whole extra person I've been carrying around. I'm naming her Bertha.
Bertha has been dragging me down for years with her "I want a Snickers bar" and "Let's skip exercise and watch TV with a bag of Ruffles."
Bertha is such a hater and I'm sick of hanging out with her. She makes me wear clothes with elastic waistbands and makes me leery of less than supportive beach chairs. She is not my friend and I'm done with her. She keeps me from reuniting with old friends, being outgoing in social situations, and basically just keeps me from being the person I want to be.
I'm kicking Bertha to the curb, y'all.