Bad Days At the Gym
A few months ago, just after my birthday in November, I undertook the (to me) monumental task of getting off my lazy couch and nap loving ass and turning my life around with a new and healthier, more active lifestyle.
I did this for a number of reasons. I wasn't happy, I wasn't feeling very good about myself. I hardly had any motivation to do much of anything, I felt stagnant. My boyfriend expressed his concerns about how this attitude was affecting my life and my health.
I had hit the heaviest weight I'd ever been at. At freshly turned 31 I needed a change.
So naturally, in my typical all or nothing fashion, I went to the gym nearest my office (the one I had an $80 a month member ship at and hadn't visited in six months because I'm an asshole) and dumped out my life savings on a personal trainer.
I figured, if I was paying someone to be there every time I work out, I have to actually show up. Getting out of bed and to the gym is the hardest part. The drive and motivation I needed to do that is what I was buying with this training package.
I have a lot to say about the nearly 3 months of training I've undergone so far. But I'll get more into that at another time.
Right now I want to talk about how bad I feel.
Yesterday was a weigh-in day. I stepped up on the scale and was struck by how wrong the numbers all looked. Over 2 months of busting my ass, and I had GAINED weight. And not the typical "muscle weighs more than fat weight" because my body fat percentage hadn't decreased in any significant way (ok so like a .5 decimal point).
I had just spent the weekend out of town visiting friends, I had indulged while with them and I had also started my period which usually comes with a buttload of water retention issues. I didn't feel or look heavier but the scale didn't lie. It was a bad time to do a weigh-in. But it was too late, the damage had been done.
I thought I was at my fattest when I started training 3 long months ago. The first month was December and counts as just a warm up because I got sick for a week and missed workouts due to the holidays. But January and February were brutal.
My fitness goals weren't crazy. Mostly its about getting off my ass and getting into the habit of not being a lazy blob.
I went in there thinking to keep things simple: work on strength and toning, set simple goals: one push up, one chin up, proper squat form...
It wasn't about the weight, my 20lb weight gain over the summer and fall of 2014 went mostly into my boobs...I had moments where I felt sexier and more feminine than I did when I was at my fittest and skinniest (another story).
But I figured, my eating habits aren't bad, once I factor in a significant and consistent increase in physical exertion/activity, surely my weight will go down and my body will change and so will my self esteem etc.
When I started out in the 180's in December, I guessed I might lose about 2-4 lbs a month. I don't think that hoping to be in the 170's after January and February was a high or unachievable expectation. I work out 4-6 times a week after all. And I'm not even talking LOW 170s. But you know...something.
So when I found myself in the mid 190s I was understandably perturbed.
My mind is a funny thing. I locked my feelings of shock and dismay away and concentrated on my workout with my trainer.
It wasn't until a few hours later that it really hit me and I got considerably upset. So much so, I had flashes of frustration and deep self-loathing. How could I not? Who wouldn't feel stupid after putting in so much work and getting the exact opposite of the expected results?
I spent several hours crying about it to my boyfriend and some close friends. Even a day later, just writing this brings up those same emotions. Instead of being on my way to a new, healthier, lighter me...I was stuck again. I was farther away from my goals than I was when I had started. This is exactly the opposite of where I want to be and I would give my right tit to go back to yesterday and not get on that scale. Ignorance is bliss! But of course that's the wrong attitude. All this has to do with my poor attitude towards myself and doing things outside my comfort zone...I'll talk about that some other time. Back to now.
I felt and still feel like an idiot, not just for messing up in this big way, but also for all the money I spent doing so.
Compounding all these feelings was the deep sensation of shame I felt because now I only had just under a month to rebuild my confidence and catch up for lost time before a major life changing trip to India. The level of confidence shattering self-consciousness I feel right now is beyond my ability to express. I'm very close to calling the trip off altogether. I hope I don't. But a part of me wants to give up and hide.
It was a hard fall to pick myself up from. And that's just Monday.
By the end of the day I had calmed down a bit. I made the resolution to try to make up for lost time by making small changes to my habits that had brought me so far to the wrong place.
I work out in the mornings so my sessions are often cut short because I have to leave 15 minutes early to get showered and ready for work. I work up earlier to get to the gym earlier to start my warm up earlier so at least I wouldn't have my warm up eating into my time with the trainer (which starts at 8:00 am, so I got to the gym at 7:45).
I woke up today, did my morning routine and made it to the gym with perfect timing. Feeling a boost a confidence and resolving to really try to put the previous day out of my mind and leave it in the dust I changed and grabbed my headphones because I felt my own music would give me more energy then the generic stuff they play at the gym. On my way over to the treadmills I started the music and shot a quick text message to my trainer about starting my warm up so he'd know I was there.
Distracted momentarily by my phone, when I went to step up on the nearest treadmill....I didn't notice someone had left it running (and at a high speed actually). My foot made contact with the moving surface and fell off but my forward step momentum meant that I came down on the still moving treadmill with my knee, and then my arm, and then the rest of me tumbled off. It was all quite sudden and jarring. I think a bunch of people were surprised by it, I didn't get a chance to look around and see everyone's reactions. I jumped up as the girl running next to me asked me if I was ok. I mumbled something about "why was this treadmill left running like this?" and reached over to press the SINGLE BUTTON to turn it off. I climbed on, got myself set up and started my warm up. My arm and knee were burning but I recognized the pain as superficial. My face felt hot from embarrassment and frustration and all the feelings I had choked down and settled the previous night came back up. I should have been watching where I was going, I should have been paying attention. I fucked up, I got myself hurt, and I made an ass of myself. Running and cry at the same time is really an unpleasant sensation but I stubbornly refused to give up and walk away. I was determined to keep trying to get this thing done.
After a minute or two my need for oxygen got stronger than my need to cry as quietly as possible and my nerves calmed a bit. Still shaken and stinging from the fall I took large gulps of air and tried the release my frustrations and focus on the task at hand. Warm up finished, I headed over to meet my trainer. Told him jokingly about my wipe out and we proceeded with our work out.
This feeling is as close to quitting flat out as I've ever come. Facing this level of disappointment and topping it off with some clumsy bad luck today has left me feeling pretty hopeless.
I can't quite because I still have a lot of money invested in my remaining sessions. And I am determined to have something to show for it when I'm done them all...even though at this moment I feel anxious and exhausted just thinking that I should have half way there but I'm half as far away as when I started. Here I thought I was almost over the hill but actually I've been climbing the wrong valley.
I won't give up. I am determined.
But I feel like a piece of shit right now and I needed to express that because otherwise it would eat away at me.
Working out sucks. It's hard and results are difficult to attain unless you cheat or you're some kind of genetic freak. I'm neither of those, just a fuck up, trying to figure shit out.
Some days you just have bad days at the gym. Really fucking, confidence shattering, shameful, bad, bad days.
Sometimes there's nothing anyone can say unless its "lets get in my time machine and fix it..." So. That's it.
Life goes on.
Thanks for reading.