Disclaimer: For easy reference,
please check my early post about my life-changing decision to look 80 by the
time I’m 40. Wait. To look 40 by the time I’m 80.
Thanks to the outpouring support of you, my lovelies, and
a full-length mirror in my closet, I bit the bullet (and it tasted yucky! I
must stop eating everything I see. Damn it.) and started to work with a
personal trainer! She’s super sweet and laughs at my jokes – and for that
alone, she should get a raise!
I gotta say, I feel good about it. For four years I paid
the gym membership and never really worked out on a consistent basis. But, see,
just the fact I paid made me feel like one step closer. Kinda like, I was
paying, so if I DID want to go, you know, I could. I always felt one step ahead
of the people who didn’t even have the membership. I know, I’m an illogical
bullshitter. But with a personal trainer, there’s no denial.
In my first week, we did a combo of stretches and cardio.
I never really do stretches on my own, because in my gym the stretching area is
located next to the stairs and in front of a gazillion machines and I feel
really exposed. Isn’t that weird? I don’t really care what people think in
general, but I HATE to stretch and do all of those things. I get it that no one
is looking, but still. I gotta say, though, that they did make a difference. I
felt lighter and more prepared for you know, all the suffering that Ellie (my
name for the elliptical machine) had for me.
Week two was ALL about Ellie and her friends. There she
stood, waiting for me, all polished, and there wasn’t a drop of sweat on her.
But, folks, I thrived. At every step, I closed my eyes and imagined Ryan
Gosling waiting for me on the other side. At one point, my trainer asked me to
pay attention because I almost slipped off. Whew.
Well, bear with me. Here I am working out at last,
surrounded by skinny folks only. There is the occasional meatier gym member,
but whenever I’m coming, she’s leaving and vice versa. I think that’s what the
Universe intends, just so we have an equilibrium of fat mass and cholesterol
levels. So yeah, I need some fantasies.
Skinny folks, I gotta say – I have a lot of respect
for you. No, really. If I ever turned into one of you, I would totally be the
nasty one who says she never works out and eats everything and just has a good
metabolism – even if I worked my ass off to be skinny. Yes, I know. I’m
petty and evil. The world is probably a better place if I continue to rock as a
curvy writer instead.
On that note, I’ll do some stretches (now that no one is
looking) and start writing.
Until later,
Carmen :)
