I’m doing my best not to release primal grunts or heavy sighs while I’m typing. My quadriceps – all four of those large muscles on the fronts of my thighs – are in distress.
No, I don’t use them to type, but they ache every time I shift in my chair, get up to walk to the printer, or sit back down.
Getting in and out of my car is tricky, because the added elevation forces me to raise my legs. Ouch.
When I walk, I look like the dogs in that viral video where their owners made them wear booties. (It’s pretty funny. Google “dogs in boots.”)
Two days ago, it was my arms that were pounding. I almost dropped my freshly made breakfast smoothie in the kitchen floor. I swear I could hear my biceps throbbing through my sweater.
Tonight, I will sleep like a baby, though I am certain I will awaken and not be able to sit up without groaning. My triceps will ache and my abdomenals will feel as if I’ve been filling in as Floyd Mayweather’s punching bag.
By now, you might have guessed that either 1. I’ve been in some kind of horrible accident, or 2. I’ve been back to the gym.
If you guessed #2, you win 30 minutes on the recumbent bike!
Yes, I finally came back to my senses and realized that the best route for me to return to optimum weight and toning is to go back to the gym. You see, over the past year, I have gradually gained back 20 of those 50 pounds I lost in 2012.
(Had you noticed that I haven’t mentioned fitness in this space in quite some time? Now you know why.)
I got complacent and let myself get un-fit. I let my gym membership lapse, thinking I could just walk a few miles every other day or so and be fine. I probably could have, if I had kept up with that plan – and if I hadn’t started allowing myself too many unhealthy treats. (That was something I could do every day!)
So, checking my pride at the door, I walked back into Powerhouse Gym in Bridge Center. I first thought I’d just jump back on the elliptical and other equipment I had conquered by the end of 2012. But once I chatted with Joey Watkins, the head honcho personal trainer, I knew I had to go all in and sign up for the tough stuff. Joey paired me with Jenn Schmidt.
Jenn is one of those gals who, if I met her at a party, I’d instantly like. She has a great smile, a quirky sense of humor, a bit of a sassy way about her, and two sleeves of tattoos.
At first glance in the gym, I wondered whether this very lean, perky younger woman could push me like I know I need to be pushed. That’s what I was used to in a trainer.
Boy, did I read her wrong! (See paragraphs one through six above.) Our journey together has just begun, and I’m pretty sure it will be a wild ride. For the next six months, we’ll be hanging out three times a week, Jenn calling the shots and me trying not to fall down.
So, I’m in a little bit of pain at the moment. But once my muscles remember what they are capable of doing, and my brain re-connects with the motivation, I know what the results will be.
I’m really looking forward to that.
