Steps into a gym!

On March 4th I got myself ready for work with the knowledge that I was going to go meet with a personal trainer for the time ever in my life. Seriously.

Sure, I have flirted with exercise here and there in my adult life, but it never really took. Wait…let’s back up a bit…

So, as a child I was always super little and small and the doctors told my Mom to do things to make me gain weight and I just never did. She’d make me sit at the table until I ate everything on my plate which was terrible because at that point in my life I didn’t like everything on my plate. At all.

Then I became a teenager and I was tall and thin and Mom would have to take me to this store to get special jeans that were long but also small in the waist and I would eat medium pizzas by myself and entire pots of macaroni and cheese and I was still just 115 pounds. Just, thin. It wasn’t attractive. I had no shape. No boobs. Kids would tell jokes that were inappropriate in nature but replace the character in the joke with me. I was called a sunken chest. All of that. Because of thin. Too much thin.

I didn’t really exercise and I didn’t view all of the active stuff I was doing as me being active. It was just me being a kid, really. Playing outside. Swimming all summer. Walking about town to be seen. I was active and I, apparently, had the highest of all the high metabolisms ever. So I stayed thin.

I don’t believe I ever really learned at an early enough age that exercise was something you gotta do to be healthy. I just always thought it was something you did if you want to lose weight and I, at that point, never really needed to lose weight. I needed to gain. So why would I do exercise? Not realizing that I kinda already was with the riding bikes, roller skating, swimming, and walking I did all the time. But it wasn’t in a gym and Richard Simmons wasn’t motivating me with songs from the oldies days so why on Earth would I think this was exercise?!

The thin lasted into my 20s. Because I was still walking about town and going to clubs and dancing and all of that. I was moving my body without realizing that I was being active. Still. I still didn’t know this.

Then I got married and got a desk job and blamo! I gained twenty pounds in six months! I didn’t fret, however, because I also grew boobs and had some hips. And that was nice. I was a married woman, I should have some sexy shape.

Then more weight arrived. We joined the YMCA. We didn’t go a lot. We’d start walking more than just the walks we took with our dog. Then we’d just walk the dog. Then I asked for an ab-roller. Then I’d stop using it. Then I would buy a Pilates DVD. Then I’d stop using it. Then there was a treadmill. I’d use it in spurts. Then there was a Bow-Flex. Then there was a divorce and it wasn’t mine.

In between all of those flirtations I’d just sit. My hobbies involve sitting. My job involves sitting. Going to movies involves sitting. Just, lots of sitting.

The good thing is that the way I’m built, I never really put on a lot of weight, really. I realize that I am lucky and I do not take that for granted. Sure, I’ve been heavier than I need to be but based on my level of inactivity and the types of food that I enjoy things could have been much, much worse. I know this.

During the divorce and living in the apartment I got much more exercise and lost a lot of weight. This was in spite of my diet consisting of frozen pizzas, corndogs with macaroni and cheese, and grilled cheese sandwiches. But I was moving my body. A lot. I danced a lot. I had to take the dogs out every time they needed as one has to do while living in an apartment. And there were stairs. So I was way more active without even having to think about it.

After I moved to Arizona I joined a gym. I did this not for the right reasons. I did this because a person I wanted to be able to spend more time with joined a gym. We went together once. But I’d go at random times hoping to see them there. Never happened. But while I was there, I’d walk on the treadmill for 30 minutes and that was that.

Yes. I joined a gym because of a boy and then would walk on the treadmill. Go me.

I bought Wii Fit. I used it a wee bit.

I worked out with a co-worker. That fizzled out.

I would walk a mile with my dogs and then walk a mile with myself. Then it got hot.

Cut to the end of February when I decided to get off of my couch!

So, here we are at the 4th of March and I’m walking into the gym. I had no idea if we were going to work out or just talk so I came prepared with some workout clothes. Which was good. Because after we talked, he worked me out for thirty minutes.

Here is where I admit that I’m kind of a jerk and a hypocrite. I have this preconceived notion of “Scottsdale” that doesn’t always match up with what Scottsdale is totally about. Yes, there is a lot of that “Scottsdale” stuff, sure. But I am super against generalizing people and here I am generalizing an entire area based on Ed Hardy shirts and jeans with embroidery on the back pockets. What does this have to do with my gym and my potential new trainer? They are in Scottsdale. But I kept an open mind and I went in and present day me is glad that March 4th me did so.

I show up and he asks me about myself and my habits and my eating and I tell him straight up that I’m starting from zero and I can tell when I answer that I like to eat spaghetti and grilled cheese sandwiches and breakfast burritos that he hates the way I eat. But he doesn’t really lecture me or anything like that.  He already has points.

So then I go and I put on my gym clothes and he measures me. And weighs me. Fully dressed and in shoes and after a day of food. The nerve!

I make a mental note of some of the measurements. Tuck them away for later Googling.

Then? He makes me do squats! And lunges! And pushups! And crunches! And get on an arm weight machine thing! And other stuff I can’t remember now! And do 2 sets of 10 reps of each thing! For thirty minutes! And? While doing the arm weight machine thing he points out the weight on it and says “See? You’re not starting at zero.” And at that I decided I liked him. At that moment I saw that not only was he going to push me to do things harder, lower, longer, faster, etc. than I would push myself; but, he would also encourage me in all the right ways. It was a good moment.

Walking to my car I had the jelly legs. They felt like they were moving weird. It hurt to drive. It hurt to text! It all just hurt. But I did it. And? I committed to an appointment on Thursday.

My couch is getting a little lonely at this point.

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