I just got back from my first workout with a personal trainer. Sweet Jumpin’ Jesus on a Hippity-Hoppity, I’m in bad shape. This is not something that should come as news to anyone who knows me or, to their great horror, seen me sans shirt. So, I met with a personal trainer today to give his services a try. I’m writing about for one very simple reason. If the world knows I’m doing this then it’s harder to slip on it. I’m at the point where I need the external motivation I can get. That way when I would rather play video games than go to the gym, I’ll have to tell everyone about it, and it’ll be harder to get away with being lazy.
So here it is. Day One. I went in, he put me on the treadmill at 3.1 MPH at a 10.5 degree incline. At this pace, just above a walk, it took only 7 minutes to get my heart rate to 160. Not a great start. It gets better. After he handed me the medicine ball and had me jog to one end of the row, something like 20 feet, squat, turn around and run back. After one complete cycle of this my knees felt like they were going to explode. We then went immediately to push-up. I got through 20 before he stopped me. I probably could have squeezed out 5 more, but I didn’t have to. Then on to the exercise bike. It was at this point that things started to go bad. I couldn’t get my breath. I probably did 10 minutes or so on the bike before he got me off it. Then it was on to the curls. I did twenty of these. At this point the light headedness set in. Based on the grip he started to show me I think French curls were next. That being the case, I surrendered.
I was basically too lightheaded to go on. I slumped to the ground, and sat there to catch my breath. He got me Gator-Ade, I tried not to let my breakfast retreat the way that it entered, and we called it a day.
Now, something like an hour later I’m feeling much better. My food is where it should be, and I have my breath. I also have my motivation. So, a journey of a thousand cramps begins with a single horrible workout.
So, something is happening, but I don’t know what it is.