Torture Comes in Many Forms

My DVD’s came on Monday.  Well, they apparently actually came on Saturday when, after waiting all day long, obsessively following my tracking number that said the package was certainly arriving, I finally gave up at 6:30PM and headed out to the park for some drinks.  According to the postal service, they tried to deliver at 6:37PM.  Which is about par for the course for my life.  At any rate, I picked up my package at the post office Monday, proudly holding it on the bus, hoping fellow passengers would see it and realize my fitness prowess.  (Unlikely.  The bus was full of teenagers that made me want to kick them for not being able to complete a grammatically correct sentence.)

But I digress.  I really was excited.  I had kind of put off all exercise until it showed up, and I was really looking forward to getting started on the next challenge in this journey of mine.  I knew it would be hard, but I was ready.

Or so I thought.  The following is the shortened version of the past three days, as narrated by the inner monologue that constantly runs through my head.  Be forewarned, my inner monologue uses a lot of creative profanity.

Day One – Upper Body Fix

  • Yay!  Here we go!
  • All right, warming up.  This is good.
  • Hmm, jumping jacks suck a lot more than I remember.  I’m probably going to need a better bra.
  • This is a warmup?  I’m already sweating.  And I don’t sweat.
  • What do you mean, get my weights?  No one told me I needed weights!  (This is my only complaint thus far.  When you order there is no mention of the program requiring dumbbells.)
  • Okay, I have substitute weights.
  • I wonder if I’m the only person using a can of tomatoes and a jar of peanut butter as weights?
  • That question pretty much answers itself, doesn’t it, Court?
  • No matter.  Okay.  We’re lifting. Feel the burn.
  • And this really fucking does burn, already.
  • I’m pretty sure that little time counter at the bottom telling us how far we come is going to be my arch enemy in less than five minutes.
  • Yep, I hate it already.
  • Okay, lie down on the floor.  This is good.  I can do this.
  • Plank?  Why so soon?
  • 60 seconds of plank?  NO.
  • And… there’s an ant on the floor.  Now I can’t concentrate.  How does one ant even get to the second floor?
  • Pushups?  Okay.  I’m going to watch Kat.  She’s the “modifier.”  Kat’s my people.  Hi Kat!
  • Kat can do pushups a lot better than me.
  • Nose three inches from the floor?  Piss off.  How about I just concentrate on not breaking my nose when my arms give out?
  • No, trainer Autumn, I cannot do “anything” for 60 seconds.  Especially fuck you planks.
  • First round done!  I did it!
  • What do you mean, repeat?
  • Okay.  This is good.  We’re sweating, we’re burning, this actually feels good, if feeling good means you feel like your arm muscles were turning to liquid.
  • Done!

Day Two – Lower Fix

  • Is that the alarm?  I should roll over and turn it off.
  • I’ll just push myself up off of my tummy to press snooze.
  • *Arms collapse* Welp, that didn’t work.
  • OW OW OW OW OW OKAY.  Got it.
  • Trainer Autumn seems awfully perky about “Leg Day.”  **Note – apparently the more excited a trainer is about something, the more it’s going to fucking suck.**
  • Kat doesn’t appear to be hurting very much.  I aspire to be you, Kat.
  • Sumo squats!  Those look fun.  It looks like Autumn is doing a plié, but like a badass.
  • Huh.  Caught a glimpse of myself in the window – it appears I’m trying to take a dump in the living room.
  • I should probably close those blinds.
  • Hey, but I’m doing these!  All those years of being told I was strong – apparently it’s all in my legs!
  • But wait, what did you just say?  We’re doing this part again?  Because I’m pretty sure the muscles in my ass are actually on fire.
  • Bonus exercise?!  WTF, Autumn.  A bonus is supposed to be a good thing.  Like that “child’s pose” thing we do?  Doing that for 60 seconds would be a bonus.
  • Also, am I the only one that finds that super awkward, that they call it child’s pose?
  • THIS IS NOT A BONUS PRIZE THIS HURTS.  I HATE PRIZES.
  • Done!

Day Three – Pilates Fix

  • Is that the alarm?  I should turn it off.
  • Hey, my arms worked!
  • Not so fast there, Wonder Woman.  Your arms don’t hurt because apparently your stomach muscles got ripped in half during the night.  It’s like some sort of awful displacement therapy, except you have no control over it.
  • Okay, Pilates.  I liked Pilates when I did them before.  Make your core strong!  Woohoo!
  • 20 minutes go by, during which I spent approximately 18 minutes flopping on the floor like a fish, trying to lift phantom limbs.
  • Remember when you liked Pilates before?  You were 60 pounds lighter and ten years younger.
  • And if we’re being honest, you weren’t all that good at it then.
  • Trainer Autumn just said this is an “active rest day.”
  • “Now, in plank position, rotate your hips first to touch the floor on the left, then the right.  Go!”
  • Yeah, you can fuck right off with that noise.  (She thought as she balanced on her hands and knees, trying to figure out how to get up or down without breaking anything.)
  • You’re a bad lady, trainer Autumn.
  • But you could bounce a quarter off of your ass into next week, so I’m sticking with you.
  • Done!

 

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The Next Challenge

Since I made the decision to get healthy, I’ve made a lot of changes.  I completely overhauled my eating and drinking habits and went from zero activity to running three times a week and signing up for 5K runs.  I’m proud of that.  Very proud.  But something strange happened after I finished that first 5K; I lost all motivation to run.  I still did it, and I kept my eating on track, but the luster and excitement around running?  Was gone.  I didn’t worry too much about it, figured I’d rest a little bit then get back into it, maybe even training for a 10K.  But somehow one week became two, and I just didn’t have that fire and determination I had had when I was training for that 5K.  When I couldn’t run 60 seconds straight, I was determined as all hell and pushed myself every time I went out there to do better.  And I loved it.  Once I completed the challenge?  Meh.

I needed a new challenge.  I’ve never considered myself a competitive person, but it turns out, trying something I had previously thought was completely out of my league is a big motivator for me.  That’s why I decided to look into Beachbody programs.  If you’re unfamiliar, take a look at their website – I won’t go through all of the details here.  The bottom line, Beachbody programs are tough.

When I first decided to start running, I spent an exorbitant amount of time looking up success stories of people like me, people that were obese when they started, that couldn’t even walk a block and were now running marathons.  People 100, even 200 pounds heavier than me, that completed the program.  Some people look at that as an unfair motivator.  Me?  I love that shit.  Show me someone in worse physical shape that can do what I’d like to – to me, that helps me believe I can do it.  The before and after pictures were so inspiring to me!  Here were women that started out looking like me and had great success.

The Beachbody before and afters?  Are a different story.  Their before pictures looked like what I pictured my after to be.  Sure, there was the occasional story of someone who started considerably overweight that had completed the program and made amazing transformations.  But for the most part?  These were people that went from extremely fit to unbelievably fit, not from fat to fabulous.  These weren’t my people.  These were people wanting to become fitness instructors, people whose entire lives revolved around working out.  Not people like me.

But then the stubborn streak I didn’t know I had came out.  Why couldn’t this be me?  I didn’t think runners were my people either – in fact, I often scoffed at how miserable they looked, running past me as I sat on a bench, drinking a beer – and look how that turned out.  I may never look just like them, but who’s to say I couldn’t get close?  There’s nothing written saying that once you’re fat, you can never be thin and toned, right?  So I decided.  I wasn’t going to try – I was going to complete a Beachbody program.  I contacted a coach that I was friends with on Facebook – the lovely Beth, who I’ve known since I was six but haven’t seen since college.  She had success with the workouts, had done a lot of them, and seemed to really believe in them as opposed to just out there trying to make money.

**I’m explaining how I went about this for a reason.  Beachbody programs are expensive, and there are a lot of people right now on social media touting it as the end all solution to losing weight.  Do your research.  I went back and forth with Beth for a few weeks before I decided on a program both of us thought I’d be able to handle, with modifications, at my fitness level.  She was honest in what she thought I could and couldn’t do, and I appreciated her honesty in telling me what was probably out of my league.**

The program I chose is the 21 Day Fix, a kickstart to healthy eating and exercise.  Now, a fix always sounds suspicious to me.  You’re not fixing me in 21 days, I promise you that.  I have a lot more work to do.  But the program is designed to get you on the right track, with a hard workout schedule, 30 minutes a day, seven days a week.  Each day concentrates on a different part of your body.  (My assumption for this reasoning is so every single part of your body doesn’t hurt all at the same time, rather, they space it out so a DIFFERENT part of your body makes you hope it will fall off each day.)

My DVD’s came in Monday.  Wish me luck….