Thursday, March 1, 2012

Each day brings a small miracle. Today’s? I ran for . . . wait for it . . . SEVENTEEN MINUTES!!!!! Yes, I did! ME! The girl who use to be serious about only running if I was being chased by a dog. Not even a person, only if it were an animal that could harm me. Otherwise, damn all that, I was walking. I don’t want you to think this was my philosophy as a fat girl, oh no. This was my philosophy my ENTIRE LIFE! As a kid, I hated games like hide & seek or tag or duck-duck-goose. I have NEVER liked to run. Not ever. I always thought it was pointless. I guess I’ve always been lightweight lazy. Whatever. And so what? Like Whitney said in Waiting to Exhale, I’m not anymore! Anyway, yes, your girl ran for 17 minutes. And (cue Usher) I have a confession: I probably could have run longer, but I rationalized that if I did, Capt. T would make me run even longer the next time and my thighs were ON FIRE!!! I for real for real wanted to stop at 15 minutes since that was my personal goal and one minute longer than what Capt. T told me to try for. BI-WINNING, right? Right! Welp, at the 15-minute mark, I felt I could go longer, so I kept going. I almost stopped at 16.5 minutes, but I wanted to be able to tell Capt. T that he was, after all, right; I actually could run for 17 minutes straight. I just knew that getting to 17 minutes was a struggle, so going longer and then next run having to go even longer? I can’t fathom that right now. I understand that that’s how this whole thing works, you add a little bit of time to each run. I get it, I do. But seeing as how so much of it is mental, I need to get my mind right. I can’t even believe I ran for 17 minutes. He’s gonna tell me to try for 21 next time, I know it. And because I want to make him proud and like I’m an efficient use of his time, I’ll do my damnedest to do it. I am super excited about my 17 minutes! I mean, do y’all realize what this means?! I CAN RUN A MILE!!! Wait, I can run further than a mile! Hold up, lemme do a little math . . . Oh emm gee. I can run 1.4 miles. That’s almost a mile and a half!!!!! Non-stop! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!!!! Can you believe it? Cuz I shole can’t believe it! It has been a long time since I’ve felt such a sense of pride and accomplishment in myself. I’m feeling really good about this whole gym experience. I even did my weight training after my run!

So I already know my arms are gonna be fucked again tomorrow. See, what had happened was, I went to the gym without my training log. I’m still new at this, so I forget stuff every time I go to the gym. Last time I forgot my shower shoes. That totally sucked cuz I couldn’t NOT take a shower; I had to go to work. I was skeeved out the whole time. There is no other word to describe how I felt. Just eww. So today, it’s not until it’s time for me to start the CrossFit circuits that I realize I don’t have my training log. I was also at a different branch, so I didn’t have access to my folder where Capt. T wrote everything down. So I first had to scout out where everything was. I was hoping the group fitness room would be empty so I could be mostly alone, but there were classes going on. This branch doesn’t have a Ladies Only room, so that was also out. I had to do my CrossFit circuits in the open. Which is how I do them at the other branch, but I’m with Capt. T, so it’s different. I’m no different from any one else who just started strength training: I’m nervous and I don’t want to be watched! I feel like a little kid playing grown-up in the gym. And now? I had no choice but to do this entire workout by myself, in front of everyone. That totally sucked. I hate the feeling of being watched. But I had to get over that because the alternative was not doing my workout, and that simply is not an option. So I went to the front desk to get a pen and some scrap paper, then I went to a table and wrote down what I could remember off the workout we did the other day. I remembered all the exercises: reverse lunges with a kick, squat-bicep curl-shoulder press, plank rows (1st circuit, 15 reps of each exercise, done twice), step up on platform & kick, triceps kickbacks (2nd circuit, done twice), x-mens (for 30secs), chest press on the machine, and leg lifts (last circuit, done twice). What I got wrong was the weight. Last time I used 12.5lbs for everything except the triceps kickbacks; I used 10lbs for those. I made a mistake today and used only 10lbs for my plank rows, too. Then their chest press machine was different, too. You would think each gym would have all the same equipment, right? I guess not. I was supposed to do the machine on 30lbs and that was the only exercise Capt. T allowed me to do only 12 reps on because I said it was heavy. He has a heart. *snort* Well, at the branch I went to today, the lowest weight was 50lbs. Now, I ask you, where in the hell do they do that at??? Every machine I have ever seen starts at 10lbs. How the fuck you gon’ start at 50? But I sat my ass down and did the damn 2 sets of 12 reps. My arms already hurt. I know tomorrow ain’t gon’ be nothin’ nice in the biceps department. I did the workout, in front of everyone. What I’m most proud of is that I asked a lot of questions today. The lady at the front desk was so helpful and not at all impatient. When it came time for the platform step up thingies, the one that’s about a foot high (I guess) looked kinda short, but the next largest size looked impossible. And it was, I tried, but not before asking one of the trainers if all the branches had the same equipment so I could see if this taller platform really was the one I was supposed to use. So I’m proud of completing my run, I’m proud of completing my CrossFit workout (it took me 40 minutes and I think it should have only taken 30, but I took more breaks than Capt. T allows), I’m proud that I asked questions, I’m proud I walked around the gym to see where everything was to familiarize myself with the facility (didn’t see the play room, though), and I’m proud I didn’t allow my mild social anxiety to paralyze me with fear about doing my workout out in the open. So when I finished that final leg lift? I was happy as hell it was over, I was tired as hell, and I felt . . . triumphant. I walked into the locker room, and I did a fist pump in the air. GO, ME!!! YAAAAY, ME!!!

That one small victory let me know that I am in it to win it! I will look better naked! My shoulders will look fuckin’ fabulous in my tank tops this summer! My upper thighs will not look so nasty! I WILL HAVE ABS!!!!! Yes!!! I am committed and nothing, and I mean NOTHING, will get in the way of me meeting my goals. Oh yeah, I got this!!! And it is nothing short of a miracle, trust me. This person I’ve turned into? This isn’t even the person I was last year, let alone when I started WW. This isn’t my first gym membership, but this is the very first time I’ve ever taken it so seriously. And actually doing a strength training workout that killed all by myself with only me to cheer myself on? Hell, I impressed my damn self! That let me know that I will continue. Not just until my birthday, not just until I start to see results, this is my lifestyle. And while I complain about going to the gym or meeting with Captain Torture, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

NSV: I had a rough morning today. I was late to work, didn’t have time to get coffee (and no coffee puts me in a foul mood), and for some reason unbeknownst to me, I didn’t pack enough food for lunch and snacks. In hindsight, maybe I just wished I had more food because I wanted to eat more. I can realize now when I want to eat out of emotion, and today was one of those days. I can’t always stop myself from doing it (mmm, chinese buffet), but I can at least recognize it’s happening. Today I wanted to eat. I ate candy (4 now-&-laters, two tootsie rolls, 2 fun size packs of chewy sweet-tarts, and a peppermint) before lunch, hell, before my first break at 11am. I ate all that candy before 11am. That’s a damn shame. At 11am, when I went on break, I ate a bag of Doritos. And here is my Non-Scale Victory: this dude looked at the bag, then at me, then said, “I can’t believe you eatin’ Doritos! Can you eat Doritos on your diet?! You eatin’ Doritos!” He was for real proud of me for eating some junk food, LOL! Now, he is crazy, like for real could be a comedian and get paid. He always says I eat dirt and sticks. One day I had gone to Whole Foods and got food off of their hot food bar. You know you put it in the little box made out of recycled paper, so it looks like cardboard? He was like, “Lawd, now she eatin’ out of a cardboard box.” For the record, the food was good as hayle! But the point is, these people think I am such a healthy eater because I almost never eat junk food at work. There is a Popeye’s damn near next door and people go there EVERY DAY! I’m not exaggerating, every day. I pack my lunch most days. The worst thing he’d seen me eat was Cheez-its (he said even Chipotle was healthy; I guess so if you eatin’ fried chicken every day). So the fact that he (and a couple other people) were shocked to see me eat Doritos let me know that I really have made a lifestyle change. I’m not one of the people who talks about going to the gym or eating better, I’m actually doing it. And it feels GOOD!