Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Torture in Cute Outfits

Today I meet my new personal trainer.  He will coach me into a lifestyle of fitness and "slim-ness".  I have been exercising at our church once a week and, although I'm not really don't enjoy exercising, I have a blast with that faithful group that meets in our youth group to walk, jump, run and complain!  The choice to join a fitness center was tougher than I thought.  I actually did some market research, asking people where they work out and how they like that facility.  I visited a couple of places and was surprised by the vast differences.
Apparently, each fitness center has a different atmosphere.  Some places are filled with people training to compete. They craft their muscles intensely.  These "Adonis wanna-bees" spend hours lifting free weights and discussing their achievements, which include bench pressing more than their body weight and finding the perfect body oil.
Many of the fitness centers that do "boot camps", intense, strenuous exercising similar to boot camp in the military and usually begin early in the morning.  For me, the very act of getting up early in the morning is strenuous enough without adding exercise to my routine!! 
When I walked into the gym where I became a member, I knew that I had found my torture chamber.  The smell of clean met me at the door.  There are no locker rooms; each person has their own room with a shower and a hair dryer.  People my age and much older were "feeling the burn".  I signed up right away, got my key and left inspired.  I made an appointment to meet with  a personal trainer for an initial assessment the following week. 
My new gym is only about three blocks from house, so I can't use that excuse for not going to the facility regularly.  Rats, now I'm going to have to come up with other excuses!
My first appointment with the personal trainer was very upbeat.  I am in better shape than I feared, although there are a couple pieces of equipment that the trainer deemed too advanced for me to attempt.  However, the trainer did introduce me to the tread mill, which I deemed too advanced as I held onto the bars for dear life as she increased the speed by pressing a lot of buttons.  I got off feeling slightly dizzy and stumbled on to the next agenda item.  I am not sure what this device is called.  It looks like half a ball on a platform.  I will now refer to it as the circus ball.  I was told to stand on this ball to improve my balance.  The mere act of standing was more like trying to line dance at zero gravity.  I could even hear circus music in the background. 
After a couple of minutes of trying to balance, the trainer said, "Do you know what would be fun?  Lunges!" 
I suppressed the urge to reply, "Do you know what would be fun?  Eating ice cream!"  Apparently her idea of fun and my idea of fun are two very different things.
She led me through the weight circuit, introducing me to such machines as the "abducter and adducter.  I am pretty sure that this machine abducted any thigh muscles I came with.  I could barely walk after a couple of reps on that baby!  She emphasized the machines that were confusing, even after consulting the pictures.  I am a visual learner and watched as she showed me how to set the machine and use it properly.  One particular machine - I will call it "the clown car" - requires you to squish into a position by folding yourself in half.  I thought getting into the weight machine WAS the exercise.  I was informed that once in "the clown car", you have to do a series of arm strengthen exercised.  Hmmm......
The rest of the work out included a 15 pound kettle that I lifted over my head and then put down on the floor several times and a brief stint with the medicine ball, after which I took some medicine for my aching body. 
The next day, it there was strenuous exercise as I tried to get out of bed without being in a sitting position.  The "thigh abduction machine" made sitting and getting up from a sitting position a new experience in pain.  Made me glad that I had closen this new, healthier lifestyle.