I admit, I've been lucky most of my life, being thin with little effort. Of course, it had to do with a bad stomach, but still. Needless to say, I didn't exercise. In college, I lived right across the street from the newly built gym. The only time I visited that beautiful gym was to buy delicious smoothies at their juice bar. My roommates were all physically fit. And I'd sit on the couch and watch them exercise to videos all while telling them to lift their legs higher. I mean, if you're going to do it, DO it (I'm quite certain it took every ounce of self-restraint on their part not to punch me in the throat - thanks, guys).
After college, my stomach improved and I gained a lot of weight... FAST. I went up 5 dress sizes in a year. It was, um, humbling. I certainly deserved it after telling my roommates to exercise harder when I wasn't exercising at all. On one hand, it was good to be eating again, but on the other, maybe I was eating a little too much. And probably not the good stuff. And... I grudgingly accepted I should exercise.
So, my sister, sister-in-law, and I joined a gym. I didn't like it much. You know, it requires actual
Eventually, the weight came off and I happily gave up the exercising. After we had our first son, I walked every day. Until it got cold. And then I did nothing. I went right back to sitting on my ass and watching TV (what can I say? It's who I am.). And, when it was nice outside, I would, again, walk.
I'm a fair weather walker.
Now that I'm getting older, and my metabolism doesn't work as well, and I'm eating more... it's time to get back into a routine. Since I had already improved my eating habits, I knew it was only a matter of time before I had to admit I needed the exercise. And my husband has been saying for years he needs to get back in shape, so... here we are.
Today was our first meeting with the personal trainer. I had never been to one before. I had had my Nazi SIL, I certainly didn't need another person yelling at me to do "3 more... 2 more... 5 more" bench presses. The guy had us each get on a scale to weigh ourselves and, later, hold up some weird gadget (looked like a PSP) to measure our body fat. While my weight may be lowish, my body fat was above average. I suppose eating ice cream after every meal will do that to you. So, fine. I need to work out. The husband's weight was higher than mine, but his body fat was lower (WTF? He eats fried foods! I haven't eaten fried foods in years!). Anyway, we were told we both have work to do and were sent off to work with our individual trainers.
My guy was nice. He explained the importance of incorporating weight training with my cardio (I've heard this schpeal before, but fine, I'll play along). After 15 minutes on the treadmill, I met up with him to work on core and legs. We did some sort of squat/lunge exercise, 3 rounds, 10 reps each, each leg (ow ow ow ow ow). Then we did some other exercise in which I got to kick at him (which was fun since he had already hurt me - now I remembered why I stopped going to a gym). We did 2 other leg exercises (why is my left leg stronger than my right?), 2 core exercises and then he abandoned me to meet his 10:00 appointment. Was I done? I felt like I was ripped off. I was already hurting, so I was happy to be done, but really? If I'm going to do this, let's DO this.
But that's where they get you. After my husband finished his fake workout (seriously, I only saw him doing stretches), we went back to the original person to discuss packages. Oh, I see. So, you can't help us during our "complimentary" session, we have to pay an extra $100+ a month to get the real help. This is the reason I hate gyms. Exercise is free. Why are we giving them our hard-earned money to do something we can do around the house? I carry around children! And baskets upon baskets of laundry! Up stairs! Each week! That has to count for something!
Whatever. I may not pay for the trainer's help, but I've agreed to the exercise, so I'm in.
If I can walk again tomorrow. Seriously. Ow.
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