But not with this body in its present state.
So right after New Year's I took advantage of sigining up for eight free weeks at Bally's. Tonight was my first visit. And on the first visit, they set you up with a trainer who'll measure you and weigh you and show you the ropes of what you need to be doing to reach your specific targets. My trainer for the evening was Julie.
She had called me the night before to confirm and sounded really chipper, so right away anxiety set it. I'd had a trainer before- back in the spring of 2004- so I knew what to expect. And the fact that Julie was happy about that was scary. But whatever; it was do or die. I have a Puerto Rican getaway to plan. (Gosh, I can think of sooo many jokes about that phrase right now but I don't want to get off topic...)
So, even though I had a tiny family emergency at home and a slight wardrobe malfunction, and despite the fact that someone must've done a wicked rain dance last night and RUINED my 'do, I went to the gym.
- I haven't gained any weight; I've been holding steady in the mid-to-low 170's for months now (yay, me!
- Julie was not some crazy muscle head drill sergeant
- Apparently I have nice legs (it pays to be afraid of learning to drive)
- During the warm up I was able to reach my target heart rate and didn't even pass out (but DAMN I was thirsty!!)
- My BMI was not terrible: 25.1- right on the border of healthy and OH MY GOD YOU'RE GOING TO DIE
- About 1/3 of my body? Made up of FAT y'all! I've officially given up McDonald's.
- My waist is STILL a shocking 37 1/8 (Julie said to make allowances for the clothes I had on, but unless the T-shirt was 20 inches thick, I'll pass)
- I need to buy new sneakers. Like yesterday.
- I also need one or three super-industrious sports bras. Julie didn't mention it, but she didn't have to.
- During the workout I got lightheaded and nauseous. I mean how out of shape does one have to be to actually get nauseous from jumping rope and doing a few reps with a resistance band?
There's only one:
That there belly? Yeah... it's NOT INVITED to Puerto Rico!
It was a tough workout. I'm not an active person and I don't like to sweat. I hate for my feet to ever leave the ground simultaneously and I don't like lifting stuff over my head. And I especially hate feeling the burn in my belly halfway through my set of crunches. Not to mention the soreness the morning after. Unless, of course, it's the morning after sex.
BUT... if it means I won't need open heart surgery like my aunt, or need diabetes medication like the generations of women before me, or that my girls will learn a valuable lesson in staying in shape and not being a slothy glutton, then I guess I can take a little pain, you know, for the team. I mean heck, I've been walking around with this pain in my lower abs for three years; what's a few days a week at Bally's with Julie, AKA The Terminator!
PS- I'd like to extend a special, extra stankelicious side-eye to all the 3 to 4 inch-heeled shoes I've ever worn in my life, from the super chunky platforms I wore in high school to the cutesy girly white pumps with the little cherries on them that I wore to Mari's graduation, for fucking up my knees and back. I officially hate you all!!!
*smooches...impressed that I was even able to lift my arms long enough to type this post*
OW! My Liver!!