I joined a gym yesterday. That's right, I am going to be a gym rat. My friend K and I visited our local gym
and liked what we saw. Plus, they gave us the teacher discount even
though we are still students. Hey, we WILL be teachers in a year and a
half. Plus their hours are awesome. They open about an hour before and close
about an hour later than all the other gyms here, and they have free
child care. They have a crapload of free classes-Zumba, pilates, yoga,
yogalates, step, spinning, so on. Best of all, they are only 1.9 miles
from my house. I no longer have any excuses.
Today
I got up and put that Christmas crockpot to use. I tossed in some
chicken and roasted garlic pasta sauce. When it's done, I'll toss some
feta in and serve it over couscous or pasta and put some Mediterranean veggies on the side.
Then
I dressed Squirrel and headed for the gym. K and I had a fitness
evaluation at 10. We got weighed and measured and put through the paces
by our cute, yet strangely sadistic trainer Antony. That's AnTONY, not
AnTHONY. Get it right.
Antony first humbled us with his evil
scale. By evil I mean it told how much I really weigh, not how much my
drivers license says I weigh. A pox up on that scale. Then he measured
all the parts of me that have "cute" nicknames: badonkadonk, muffin
top, and wings. All those special parts. Then Antony had the nerve
to-brace yourself for this one-write this information down. WTF? He
says it's for posterity.
Next, Antony led us to the chamber of horrors. They call it the "Weight Training" area. I c
all
it the seventh circle of Hell. The first thing he subjected us to was
this device that was obviously designed to kill. It consisted of a
little bench that you laid on and this slab of metal that you had to
press up with your feet. I am absolutely certain that if failed to
press it up sufficiently, you would be smashed flat. What better
motivation to to complete one more rep than your immediate demise.
Moving
along, we did squats. More like squeals....of pain! Because that's what
my thigh muscles were doing. Squealing from the pain.
Next me
moved up to our abdominals. We did sit ups but not normal sit ups.
These were special sit ups. We did them on an exercise ball. Yay. Fun.
Whee. It was at this point that the meatheads started working out
behind us. They held a distracting conversation about some chick who
had "the face of a Dallascheerleader." I tried to focus, and luckily,
just trying not to topple off the ball. By the time I completed my
reps, they were gone. Plus, cutie Antony was supporting my back to make
sure I didn't maim myself.
Next, we did something like sit ups,
but it was done on another medival torture device. In addition to
lifitng my upper body, this contraption had some sort of weight that we
had to lift simultaneously.
By then, our free session was about
done. Antony tried to escape us, but he made the mistake of asking if
we had any other questions. Heck yeah we had more questions. He'd
addressed some of the cute parts, but not those wings I have hanging
from my upper arms. He directed us to the tricep press. It was
definitely my favorite. It'd didn't frighten me or cause me pain.
K
and I roamed about the gym for a while, considered getting on some
cardio machines, which we decided no to as our legs and thigh muscles
were so shaky we could barely stand and instead headed to the smoothie
bar. There I got a smoothie and we chatted with Christie, the first
vegan I have ever met in real life-though she does indulge in sushi
from time to time. She gave us a lot of info so we headed to Publix to
get our own smoothie ingredients. I even got organic stuff.
All
jests aside, I had a wonderful time at the gym. I feel really good.
Even though I hurt, it's a good kind of hurt. It's meaningful. I am
doing something good for me and for my kids. I'll keep ya posted on the
results.
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