Then you and I should be BFFs. Because I hate it. I mean, I love all the accoutrements - the cute leggings (hello? picture above?), fun sneakers, witty t-shirts and all that stuff, I just really dislike the actual exercising part. This is not new. I've pretty much been like this my whole life. I remember in college having friends that began going to the gym, and I couldn't really understand why, since they were young, not at all overweight and not training for a sport. But I did like the outfits they wore, so I went out and bought a few cute leotards (yes, that's how old I am, that Jane Fonda was the inspiration) and tried to go to the gym, too. It didn't last. Many years later, I went to Canyon Ranch in Tucson for a week with my mom and sister, and it was totally transformative. I loved being there so much that I actually enjoyed the exercising part! When I got home, I kept up my new routine and within 3 months was literally in the best shape of my life - to this day. I was lean and toned and had lost all of my belly fat, which is the bane of my existence. I felt great and I felt that I looked great. Minus the fact that my already small chest now rivaled a prepubescent boy. Didn't matter. My stomach was flat and that was my greatest accomplishment. Then I got a new job working in morning TV, and before long I fell off the wagon. And that was that.
Over the years I went on to have two kids and a high-pressure career, and honestly, the fact that I'm naturally thin made it really easy for me to get away with not exercising. Every now and then, I'd try to get back into it, yearning for the flat stomach I had during that initial Canyon Ranch spurt, but I've just never been able to keep up with it. So here I am. Thin but totally out of shape. Skinny fat is what my sister calls it. And she's right. I actually had my body fat measured a few years ago during one of my determined efforts to get fit, and the trainer thought there was some kind of mistake when it came back at almost 30%. Nope, no mistake. That's me, skinny fat and not really caring.
And now I've decided to try it again. Why? No idea. Maybe partly because I think my husband would like to be in better shape but won't motivate alone. I totally get that. Maybe partly because my kids are at an age where I wouldn't mind them seeing me doing SOMETHING, if for no other reason than to have a better comeback when I tell them they're being lazy just sitting around on a weekend afternoon and they should get outside for some fresh air and exercise. And maybe partly because a friend from my former TV life just got certified to be a personal trainer and posted it on Facebook. Boom. Before I could rethink it, I reached out and booked our first session. Which takes us to the here and now.
I am very proud to say I now have TWO training sessions under my belt in as many days. I ROCK. And I can barely move. Like literally questioning whether writing this is worth it because my arms are so sore. And to all my essential oil addict friends, yes I am covered in Deep Blue. Anyway, our trainer - we'll call her JV - is small and sweet and smart and seemingly non-aggressive on the outside. And the first session we did was fab. I was able to do everything she said and I don't think I looked like a total spaz. Plus, most importantly, I was wearing my new super cute Electric Yoga leggings that you saw in the picture (they're sold out, but I also love these). I barely broke a sweat, and my husband did work up a little sweat, so we were on our way. And it seemed manageable - dare I say even enjoyable - so much so that I immediately booked our second session for today.
Well folks, despite my cute t-shirt and awesome new workout shorts, today was non-disputable proof of how out of shape I am. My thighs and triceps were a little sore from Saturday, but nothing too bad. Until JV made me start doing squats again today. Seriously, I just stood there for a minute trying to figure out how to make my body squat down without collapsing. It was like my head heard what I wanted to do but just wasn't passing the message along to my quads. It was a similar situation when it was time to do arm weights. And my entire body was shaking 10 seconds into a set of three 30-second planks. It sucked. It all sucked. My husband flipped me off mid workout. And you know what I did? I scheduled another session in two days. I'll show him.
I really really want to be in shape. Not just in shape, but I want an enviably flat stomach like the girls I see at the pool all summer and I want arms like Madonna. Is that too much to ask? I think not. The questions is, can we stick it out in order to get there? I'm gonna try. Really I am. And I'll even let you laugh at me along the way.