PAINFULLY HONEST
I'm not entirely happy with the way I look.
Yes, I've lost 15 pounds since last spring. But I've got another 10 or 15 to go, and I have far-off hopes that include size-6 skirts and running a 5k.
Enter my 40 days of 40 and my darlingest husband who paid attention to all my griping and got me the best present that I would never have thought to ask for . . .
A personal trainer.
Who comes to my house.
It doesn't get any better. Which is what I'm reminding myself as I sit here, vaguely aware of muscles that I'm pretty sure will hurt tomorrow morning. "This is a good thing, this is a good thing, this is a good thing . . ."
Good news: in our very first session at 7:00 a.m. this morning, she had me doing things I didn't think I could. Like when I'd finished 3 sets of something-or-other lifts and thought I was done, only to be handed a heavier weight and told, "This is your heavy set." And that one was followed by a return to the lighter weights. 5 sets? No wonder I never made progress on my own.
Bad news: the session started with the ritual taking of my measurements and the calipers for body fat. (Followed by the ritual throwing of myself off a cliff into a pile of doughnuts.)
In the interest of using public humiliation as a motivator for change, I will now tell you that my body fat percentage is 32%. Looking at different charts, that puts me anywhere from poor to barely acceptable to obese.
Obese?! Really?! I wear a size 8! (Of course, I also recently preached to you all about how sizes and weight numbers don't matter.)
But body fat percentage is another story. That's a number I intend to change in the next four months of twice-a-week training sessions and changed-up cardio workouts. I want to drop that number, drop my weight, increase my strength, and increase my endurance.
I'll let you know how it's going. If only because I don't want 32% body fat to be the last number you remember about me.
Yes, I've lost 15 pounds since last spring. But I've got another 10 or 15 to go, and I have far-off hopes that include size-6 skirts and running a 5k.
Enter my 40 days of 40 and my darlingest husband who paid attention to all my griping and got me the best present that I would never have thought to ask for . . .
A personal trainer.
Who comes to my house.
It doesn't get any better. Which is what I'm reminding myself as I sit here, vaguely aware of muscles that I'm pretty sure will hurt tomorrow morning. "This is a good thing, this is a good thing, this is a good thing . . ."
Good news: in our very first session at 7:00 a.m. this morning, she had me doing things I didn't think I could. Like when I'd finished 3 sets of something-or-other lifts and thought I was done, only to be handed a heavier weight and told, "This is your heavy set." And that one was followed by a return to the lighter weights. 5 sets? No wonder I never made progress on my own.
Bad news: the session started with the ritual taking of my measurements and the calipers for body fat. (Followed by the ritual throwing of myself off a cliff into a pile of doughnuts.)
In the interest of using public humiliation as a motivator for change, I will now tell you that my body fat percentage is 32%. Looking at different charts, that puts me anywhere from poor to barely acceptable to obese.
Obese?! Really?! I wear a size 8! (Of course, I also recently preached to you all about how sizes and weight numbers don't matter.)
But body fat percentage is another story. That's a number I intend to change in the next four months of twice-a-week training sessions and changed-up cardio workouts. I want to drop that number, drop my weight, increase my strength, and increase my endurance.
I'll let you know how it's going. If only because I don't want 32% body fat to be the last number you remember about me.
1 comment:
Oh, I'm glad it's you and not me. I really don't want to know that number for myself! You look fabulous,(Trust Me) so now it really is just about health.
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