On gaining a little motivation

Well it just had to be done, i finally got frustrated enough to get my behind back down to the gym and sign on the dotted line. After yet another day of dieting yesterday i hopped onto the scales this morning and they hadn’t moved, not one single gram!! I actually got off, reset them, took off my pyjama top and climbed back on but no, still the same. I then got off again and got back on standing nearer the front but still no change and then resorted to jumping up and down on the darned things which resulted in a 1lb gain followed by a 1lb loss. Definitely not impressed i jumped off, scowled at the scale and growled ‘stupid bloody things’ at them before tossing them into a corner. 

It was all so much easier when i was younger but now the love handles are definitely in there for the long haul, aptly named they hug my hips tightly crooning ‘i love you’ Yes well i dont love you, pack your bags and leave!!  Well there was nothing for it but to head back to the gym and become a gym bunny again, so trainers donned, grown up daughter in tow we headed down for a torture session designed to shift even the most stubborn of inches.  I was actually relieved to see the guy on duty wasn’t some buff tanned pretty boy guaranteed to make me feel like a 90 year old nellie the elephant but instead a guy of around my own age who certainly seems to know what he was talking about. 

It seems much has changed in my absence and emphasis for girls is on reps rather than weight as it was when i was there before. I was slightly disappointed by this for i confess i did take a rather gleeful delight in sitting next to guys on the benches and easily pressing more than them and watching them slope off to pick up something heavier to struggle with and retain manly pride. Aren’t i terrible??

So as we launched into new training programme i was pretty pleased that i didnt struggle too much and hadn’t had to drop weights too far although trust me i’m pretty sure i’ll suffer for it tomorrow and will be walking like a 90 year old. Two hours flew by and although i emerged half dead it was with that strange kind of exhilaration you get when you’ve been training. I’d actually forgotten how much i love the gym although i think i’ll tone up a bit before i resume training with the guys. Biggest surprise of all was surveying myself in the full length changing room mirror and realising i wasnt quite as big as i had been mentally picturing myself although there was plenty of room for improvement. 

So once again i am a gym bunny panda and hopefully middle age spread will be well and truly banished. Watch this space!! 

Advertisements

She cannae take much more gym!!

Okay excuse the terrible pun, what can i say i’m a trekkie of the worst kind. So today a very kind friend sent a donation of a cross trainer in my direction, probably an affectionate kick up my ample derriere to help with my never ending weight loss see saw. You’d never believe that only two years ago i used to nigh on live in the gym, getting screamed at by a sadistic personal trainer friend was very much part of the routine 7 days a week. Actually having a personal trainer who is a friend is probably the worst thing because they tend to take great delight in being mean and pushing you even harder than a normal trainer would. 

I admit i loved the weight training and trained with a couple of body building guys, loved the treadmill although despite my trainers best efforts he never could turn me into a runner. I seem to have some short circuit between legs and lungs which leaves it impossible for both to work at the same time. Trust me you could put a 90% sale on at monsoon and i still wouldn’t manage a run!! 

But as is always the case in any gym i had my nemesis, the cross trainer!!

My trainer knew this and would paste on evil grin, clap me on the back and say ”Right then Amanda time for the cross trainer i think, twenty minutes to start”

To start?! Oh yes he meant it too, setting the timer for twenty minutes and barking out a speed. Even trying to distract myself with the huge screen tv did little to help and as my legs turned to jelly my lungs waved a white flag and grabbed frantically at my inner ribcage trying to reach daylight and more air. Just when i thought my lungs would explode the ritual slap on the back would come and crazy non stop yells to kick up the speed and hold it for a minute. WHAT??? are you trying to kill me?? Hello..barely breathing here!! Oh there was no getting out of it because you werent getting off that machine until you’d done your twenty minutes and kicked your heartrate up to a level that satisfied the demon trainer. 

Actually i confess i expected to see the heart rate monitor dialling 999 and paramedics coming to my rescue for i really did think i was going out of there in a box and ohhhh seriously its hard to remind yourself that this grinning torturer is your friend and i dreaded every minute of that torture chamber.

So it really seemed the perfect thing to do when a friend offered me a cross trainer. Of course i said yes…. in the three seconds before my brain connected to my mouth! So some time later determination set in, i switched on the latest episode of The Biggest Loser and hopped on thinking thin thoughts. 15 minutes later my thighs are singing their way through a song and dance routine chirping burn baby burn and the rest of me is hallucinating it’s in the Sahara desert, gasping out croaks of water…i need water!!

Well i guess this all just goes to prove im really not that fit any more despite how much i walk and perhaps its just as well i accepted this after all. But i’m determined to do it even if i do have to stop every 10 minutes, i’ll just get right back on again. But if sometime this week you dont hear from me it’ll be because i’m mid crawl halfway up the stairs since my legs gave out and the desert came and swallowed me up. Roll on when i’m 70 and it wont matter any more, i can just eat chocolate to my hearts content and be as unfit as i like. In the meantime i just need to get my butt moving to make sure i actually make 70 but just incase i’m putting emergency services on speed dial….