I'm back on the wagon. A few weeks ago I announced that I had canceled my gym membership and discussed the possibilities of continuing my fitness program. I explored all the possibilities of working out at home and arrived once again at this conclusion: If I plan to exercise at home, I will put it off until next year tomorrow. Until Thanksgiving, I had been exercising regularly 3-5 times a week for the past three years. And getting nowhere. The holidays gave me an excuse but the truth is I was frustrated and bored.
Last Friday, I walked into a gym near my office and signed up for a new membership and an appointment for a personal training session today at 5pm. The membership came with a free session aka a personal training sales pitch. I would love to have a personal trainer but that simply is not in my budget. I'm sure it would be great to have a trainer and might even be the key to a successful fitness routine but alas, my wallet said a big fat NO!
My trainer for a day's name was Butch. The session began with an interview. I was required to give an obscene amount of very personal information such as my height, weight, age. Then we discussed my goals. My total body fat was measured by a device that looked very much like a playstation controller. I was appalled with the results. But you can't really trust a game controller for accurate information, right?
Butch continued the interrogation interview by asking about my goals, my level of commitment and how I planned to achieve those goals. I answered every painful question honestly because I'm so pure of heart *wink* and I'm a really bad liar. And of course, since he isn't blind, there was no real point in telling him that I'm 5'10" and weigh 120lbs.
We talked about increasing my metabolism, increasing my fitness level, reducing my body fat and shedding the excess poundage.
Then Butch started a sentence by saying, "Since you're approaching 50 years old…………." And I heard nothing after that. Seriously? I only just turned *cough* forty-eight *cough* I just sat there staring daggers at the boy. In situations like this my life becomes a cartoon fantasy like Calista Flockhart's character in the old show, Ally McBeal. I was suddenly transformed into Clint Eastwood. I gave Butch a look that said, "Go ahead Punk, make my day."
He noted my stare and the red bead on his forehead and continued, "Well, I'm sorry but you are." And I shot him.
Returning to the real world, I quickly explained to him that we can't be friends if he is going to say things like that. He smiled and realized he was dealing with a neurotic bitch sensitive woman who is struggling with her advancing age and the extra pounds it wants to bring along.
Before he said something else that would cause me to ram his foot down his throat might offend me, we moved on to the work-out portion of the session. Butch put me through several abdominal exercises, all new to me. Hopefully, I will be able to stand straight tomorrow. We proceeded to legs and glute work. I was familiar with some of the exercises but he was able to show me a few new tricks too.
If Butch knows what he is talking about, and that still remains to be seen, I'm going to be a very happy woman. It seems that I've been working too hard. I have to admit this was a hard pill to swallow. He suggests that I work out no more than four times a week with strength training. I should supplement my workout with cardio training but no longer than 30 minutes and at medium intensity which is where I will burn the most fat. My old routine included an hour of high intensity cardio supplemented with as little weight work as possible and as many classes as I could fit into my schedule. He also claims I haven't been eating enough. (He wasn't around for the cupcake fest this weekend.) But I think he meant that I should eat more often. Words of wisdom about eating before and after exercising were stressed and more blah, blah, blah, and blah.
I've lost 10 lbs in the last 3 years. It's been a yoyo experience at best. I'm going to try Butch's way. If he's right, he'll be my new best friend and my hero. If he's wrong……………………..I'll shoot him again.