I've recently joined the gym. I have, and if you told me 6 months ago that I would be a person that joins the gym I would have slapped you upside the head and called you mad. But, nonetheless its true, I've joined a gym. I could say that it was because I wanted to lose weight, or because I'd given up all my nothings and now had ooddles and ooddles of time. I could say that it works nice with my schedule, or that its now dark when I leave the office and that makes it easy to go to the gym, or I could tell you I wasn't doing anything anyway. I could give you a million reasons, really. I don't think any of them would hold any weight (ha!).
So, I joined the gym . . . it's still sinking in that I'm now one of those gym going people. Three times a week, spin classes, training sessions, running on treadmills, breaking the elliptical, or riding on the bikes where you can sit down and read a book while your legs do all the work . . .
The first training session I had, it wasn't a great one. I'm terribly unfit, and I never use the muscles that I have. They are there simply to make my clothes fit better, I think. Because something had to go over my bones, and don't they look just fine doing nothing? I made it clear to my trainer guy that I wasn't fit. At all. And he kind of nodded and didn't believe me, and then he made me USE my muscles. And I tried, I really really tried to do what he was asking me to do. Except my body wasn't on the same page as me. and I fainted. In a room full of people, I fainted into the capable arms of my personal trainer.
See, in anyone elses life, they faint into their personal trainers arms and when they come to they discover that their personal trainer is gorgeous, and amazing and has somehow magically fallen in love with you, and together you live you happily ever after with many happy children.
Me? I come to and feel like I'm going to vomit, hit my trainer in the face and all I can think of is that the room full of sweaty big men I'm in smells really really horrid.
Needless to say we cut that training session short.
Since then its been weeks and weeks of pain. Not the gym visits themselves, they are fine. When you're doing your exercises, you might hurt a little bit when you're trying to push yourself. But you stop, take a break, and then do another set and its fine. The weeks of pain are the days after. When you laugh and your abs hurt because you tried that fancy new peice of equipment where you have to lift your legs up to your chest like a messed up grasshopper. Or when the backs of your arms hurt, and who even knew that you had muscles there? Or when you get up off a chair, and discover that somehow all those lunges made your legs into jelly, and your not quite sure if they're able to hold your weight anymore. When you want to open a jar, and YOU CAN'T, because it means you have to use those muscles that sit just under your collarbone, and they really HURT right now.
And Oh! Oh the eating! I am starving, ALL THE TIME now. For everything, and anything. Someone walks by with a half an apple, and I'm ravenous. My trainer said something about kicking my metobolism into gear or whatever. I think I'd much rather turn it off, because I don't have the willpower to say no to food. I'm eating like an industrial wastebin, I'm eating like a BOY eats. Anything, and everything, and lots of it.
I really wasn't expecting that to happen, it kind of blindsided me. Which meant for the first week or so I was eating things like donuts, and fries, and cookies from across the way and pies from the bakery and chocolate bars from the dairy and burgers and just, everything I shouldn't have been eating. I was hungry, nay, RAVENOUS, and I brought whatever it was that was going to going to take the least amount of time to get from wherever it was, into my stomach. Namely, convenience food. It took some doing to realise that perhaps eating crap is a little bit counter-productive to going to the gym. So I'm a bit better with what and when I'm eating.
So, its been a few weeks of this (the gym going, not the mad eating), and to be honest I haven't noticed any changes with my body. I still weigh the same, I still fit my jeans like I did last month, and I still get puffed walking up the hill home. But I do feel better about myself, for doing this. They say that the endorphins released when you exercise can be addictive, and I think thats true. The first week I had to drag myself to the gym, and would take any excuse not to go. Now? Now I'm thinking about gym going on my days off . . . its a bit mad.
Still, I'm enjoying it (mostly). It uses up alot of the spare time I have, and I get to see Feidi a few times a week. Is there something that you never thought you'd do, that you did, and enjoyed?