A couple of weeks ago I issued a weight loss challenge to the entire county. So far we?ve lost a total of eighteen pounds. Eleven of that was from my extremely motivated sister-in-law. The rest of us seriously stink at this. Come on, y?all! I?ve seen your fat behinds waddling around out there and I know you would like to lose some of that excess weight, so get on board!
Soon, I will be able to report better progress on myself because this week I joined the local fitness center. I had been a member about ten years ago but life got in the way and I let things slide. Unfortunately, that caused my chest, stomach, and derriere to slide as well.
The first order of business was to meet with a personal trainer to have my measurements taken and create a work-out plan. I really hated the idea of being measured by a cutesie little college-aged girl who hasn?t seen a delivery room since her own birth, so, I was pleased to find out that even though my trainer is cute as a button, she has three children of her own! And not only that, they were all c-sections! And not only that, her stomach is as flat as a board! This was encouraging to me because after my recent fourth c-section my stomach resembles a Sharpei puppy and I really had no hopes that it would ever look human again.
Having my measurements taken by another mom was definitely easier, but I was still a little apprehensive about seeing the numbers. I haven?t measured myself in years, and I knew it wouldn?t be good. So, how does 36? 24? 36? sound?
Yeah, it sounds good to me too. Unfortunately, mine are 43? 40? 46?, and that?s only because I had on my good bra. If not for that I would probably measure more along the lines of 40? 42? 46?, or maybe 47? depending on how much my chest sags that day.
I can?t get over the fact that hubby weighs one hundred pounds more than I do, but my waist is only two inches smaller. Of course I?ve carried five babies to term while he?s been carrying the same one for the last twelve years, so that could make a difference. And I am an emotional eater which doesn?t help. Tired? Have some chips. Lonely? Grab a Twinkie. Don?t want to face that stack of bills? Whip up a batch of fudge. Happy? Celebrate by going to an all you can eat buffet and then stop for ice cream on the way home.
After being measured, it was time for my first official work-out. I?ve never done anything with weights before because everyone always looks so serious about them and it intimidates me, but Trina the amazing personal trainer walked me through several exercises. She pushed me much further than I would have gone on my own and I found out I have a lot more muscles than I realized. I always thought that at least my calves were in pretty good shape, but they needed a work out too.
After my first session, I hobbled to the car and called hubby. He asked how much weight I lifted when doing the bench press and made fun of me for not actually putting any weights on the bar. But the bar itself weighs forty-five pounds! When I asked Trina to let go so I could see how it would feel to do it myself, I got all wobbly and nearly whacked her in the head.
Then I had to do this thing called a skull crusher. I used a mere fifteen pound weight, but it was enough to make me fearful. I suppose this is why they have trainers. Not only can they help out by spotting, but it would never even occur to me to work my arm muscles by lying on my back and lunging a barbell at my forehead.
I?m looking forward to seeing how my body takes shape over the next few months. Hopefully, by the time my 20th class reunion rolls around in September, I?ll be well on my way to looking better than I did in high school. I?ve always hoped to be one of those people who can say, ?At the age of forty I have a better body than I?ve ever had in my life. And now?I?m a rock star!?
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