Before I get started, Kevin Nealon was great. He was by no means the funniest comic I’ve ever seen at the Improv (far, far from it, actually), but the experience of seeing him perform was fantastic and we had a wonderful time out Saturday night.
Now, to the topic of today’s post. The feeling has been growing for a while now, but over the weekend I decided to once again take action. This “feeling” is about my relative state of fitness, which since school started last fall has become something I deal with on a near-daily basis. The reason is that I spend nearly all of my time at UTD on the second floor of a building a short walk from the parking lot, and often when I’m walking to or from the building, and especially when I’m climbing the flight of stairs, I get this nagging sense of self loathing because I can’t make the walk or climb the stairs without falling short of breath. And I HATE that. One flight of stairs, for crying out loud! (In my defense, though, they are twice the height of your standard flight fo stairs.)
Anyway, of course those who’ve been around for a while will remember my epic trek towards fitness (and the attendant loss of weight) back in 2004, which went spectacularly well and shot my energy levels, as well as my general life-happiness levels, through the roof. I was able to commit the time to that pursuit two years ago because I was living alone with little to occupy my outside-of-work time except hanging out with my friends. As the year progressed, however, it seemed like everyone I knew (including myself) fell in love with someone, and my life took on another form. I don’t blame that change for my subsequent lack of exercise, but I have nevertheless not been putting the same emphasis on gym time in the last 18 months as I once did.
In the last few weeks (the wedding dress shopping certainly accelerated this emotional journey) I have been feeling increasingly displeased — even, yes, disgusted — with myself. It’s not so much about the number on the scale (it sucks, yes, but I am not all that emotionally invested in the number, honestly), but rather much more about how I’m feeling physically. And I feel horrible. Icky. Lately, I’ve even been angry with myself… and that anger, honestly, is the most productive emotion I can feel, because in anger, I can find a solution.
So last week, I started going to the gym again. Daily. I’ve been five days in a row now, and I plan to continue going almost every day (daily isn’t always doable, but I have enough time most days to at least hop on the elliptical for 30 minutes of cardio). After a couple of sessions last week on my own, I decided to ask the gym people about personal training, because that was such an integral part of my previous success. It is crazy expensive to do personal training at Bally’s, so I wasn’t sure I would move forward, but after thinking on it for a few days, I decided to go ahead and sign up for a 16-session package. It IS crazy expensive, but I know that it’s money well spent.
That brings me to today. This morning, I had my first session with my new trainer guy, Chris. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about working out with a guy (versus a woman, I mean), but in some ways I was thinking it might be better because what I really need (and honestly, what I really respond very well to when working out) is someone to push me HARD. He wasn’t too hard on me this morning, though he did bring me to the begging point a couple of times (“Seriously, I CANNOT do any more reps!”), but I knew he was going fairly easy on me. So I have tremendous hope that he will turn out to be exactly the sort of trainer I need.
I’m writing this now because, less than 4 hours after my workout, I’m already feeling the muscle fatigue. It’s not just fatigue, it’s *exhaustion*. I would have a hard time lifting anything above my head right now; hell, washing my hair was a little tough. I’m going to be crazy sore tomorrow, but as I am always quick to tell people, I am weirdly fond of muscle soreness, because it tells me right away that I’ve not wasted my time in the gym. Nothing is worse than lifting weights and not getting sore!
I’ll work with Chris twice a week (Monday and Wednesday mornings, before my afternoon classes) and then commit to at least two days of cardio the rest of the week. Completely doable. I’m excited… I just hope I can get in good enough shape to enjoy Hawaii, San Diego and Europe as I want to enjoy them this summer. 🙂
I find it interesting that you found a positive aspect of anger when it comes to physical fitness. As you know, I've had some physical challenges in my life and anger was one of the most powerful motivators that got me through. Most of it was directed toward my father. (Another story)More people should turn anger around and use it to get in shape. It totally works. I've since let go of the anger for my father after an epiphany, but I still listen to angry music on my ipod when I workout. Good for you Liz, but I've always been proud of you. John
Good luck Liz. I know the feeling. My boss works upstairs from me and every time I have to go see him, I'm out of breath when I get there. lol.