Today I began officially with a trainer. I really cannot afford this, but in the grand scheme of things, I can/have to. It’s $199 for five 1-hour sessions, but she’s splitting it into ten 30-minute sessions, probably twice a month. My trainer (let’s call her “K”) also decided that once a week, I will meet her for a few minutes to swap out food journals and get a weekly weigh in going. Very glad for that, as I can’t find a consistent scale to save my life. (Tonight the locker room scale said 314, but I could go again tomorrow and it’ll be way more or less) K started me out doing these squats where you hold straps out in front of you and then start to sit down. I did three sets of 10. I like those, I can tell I’m doing something without killing myself. Next (I think, I’ve already blocked it out haha) I did something horrible called “lay down, stand up”. It’s just what it sounds like, lay down flat on your back, then get back up. We were in a room with a padded floor, but I required extra padding. I really struggled with these. My weight made it hard enough, but all that extra use with my right knee and hip kinda sucked. Maybe like three or four in, my left leg was rendered useless. It is much more weak, and I simply couldn’t get it to cooperate. I think I only did like five of these, as opposed to the 30 K had set out to do. That had me breathing really hard. Probably should’ve brought my inhaler. After that, we stood against the wall with one of those exercise balls, and I just barely pushed the ball against the wall with my leg. Did that ten times, switched to the other leg, and again. Those were difficult, but doable. I had to stop a few times for water, I was starting to see spots. The next exercise was what I called the “thighmaster”. I stood on either side of the ball and gently squeezed, then released. 3 sets of ten there as well. I’m very uncoordinated, and my legs fought me with that one. Finally, I did an oldie from physical therapy. Laying flat on my back, lift a leg up, back down, and switching. These were difficult because I kept getting a Charlie horse as I lifted. We sat on the floor for a couple of minutes and talked about my plan for the week, and that was it! My face was red and sweaty, but I didn’t feel like that was enough of a workout (since I REALLY didn’t want to come, I felt I needed to do more to make the trip worth it), so I got on a treadmill. I only went for 22 minutes (mostly at 2 MPH) because my left side, left outer thigh, and the left side of my low back were unhappy. Tomorrow morning I will see the doctor to check in on my back, as it has been acting up more lately, and I really need it to comply so I can get this damn weight off!
Oh, also, I told my ex (long story, but we’re close) about my goal. I showed him my main inspiration picture:
and he said “Wow if you looked like that your craziness would be kinda sexy” – I only properly read that just now, and now I can’t tell if he was being a jerk or nice. Anyway, it felt good to tell him what I was planning for, he was with me at my highest weight and during “the great weight loss of ’05”, where I lost like 30 pounds pretty much never getting off my ass and strictly eating potatoes (generally frozen) and binging on like cake frosting and stuff. There would be days when I was super thirsty and there was nothing in the house to drink (I was convinced that tap water would make me sick) and all I could find would be a Mike’s raspberry in the back of the fridge. Classy stuff. Anyway, so now pretty much all the important people in my life know what’s up and can keep me focused on the goal. Hopefully. My mom keeps buying me junk, I don’t know what else to say to get that to stop. Speaking of stopping, enough with this blog entry, damn.
*I do not currently have a link handy for the picture of the chick. I saved it months ago off of Pinterest, I forget if there was a website attached to it or not. I am not trying to claim credit.
**I posted this last night, I guess it didn’t go through!
I have been sitting in my car, in the gym parking lot for nearly thirty minutes. I can’t bring myself to go in. I know I will feel better if I go, I have everything I need to spend some time… but here I sit. I haven’t been here in almost a week. There is absolutely no reason for me not to go in. Raaaaaarr curse this lazy, fat-girl brain of mine. Does this feeling go away? I am sure that once this becomes more of a habit that it’ll be easier, but I wonder if I’ll still have days where I sit out here.
Okay, okay, fine. I’m going in. I’ll probably take it easy, but it’s better than sitting on my ass at home, right?
Aaaaaany minute now. Wait for it… wait for it…
(Now my brain is trying to tell me that I should just come back later, that I’ll probably have the place to myself and will certainly have access to the giant fan. But dudes, if I go home, I’m not leaving again til morning. We both know that.)
Okay. I am really going in this time. I think. I’m trying to picture my ex’s face when he sees me all thin and rad and I totally blow him off for being a dumbass.
Okay, okay, okay. It’s go time. It’s been like 45 minutes. Now I can’t tell if I really want to sit here, or if I’m enjoying writing. I CAN WRITE ANY TIME.
Seriously going in now.