Since deciding to join a gym, I have done the following workouts:
Saturday, 1/6: I go in for a trial training session with Trainer Dude. 10 minutes or so of cardio warmup and stretching on my own, then my trainer suggests we do a full body set with free weights. (I’m pretty sure it was a HIIT routine? He called it something like isometric or biometric. Something-metric.) I am like “hell yeah, fuck me up, let’s do it.”
The last part of the routine involves fifteen reps of jumping up onto a stool, immediately after doing a set of step-ups. (”We’re gonna burn those legs.”) I am very short. The stool is a little higher than my knees. I try and jump ... and bark the shit out of my shin. Trainer grabs a much lower bar for me to jump over, and I complete the routine. He tells me to take a quick break, and I head for the water fountain.
And suddenly feel like I’m going to pass out.
SMASH CUT TO: That morning, as I finish my first cup of coffee and think I’m going to go work out, I should probably drink more water -- then shrug and pour myself a second cup.
Past Me is an idiot. Past Me knows, from Past-Past Me, that I am prone to fainting when dehydrated. Past-Past Me has collected a wealth of stories about passing out that she finds hilarious and everyone around her finds concerning. Past Me drank the coffee anyway.
After several minutes of me sitting on the floor by the water fountain with my head down, making sure my ears have stopped ringing, Trainer Dude comes to check on me. Though I assure him I’m starting to feel better, he sends me home. Fair play to you, Trainer Dude.
Monday, 1/8: Take two with Trainer Dude. This time we work through a basic routine on weight machines: chest, shoulders, lats, bi- and triceps, hamstrings. Trainer Dude apologizes several times throughout for pushing me too hard before. I, meanwhile, keep trying to push myself too hard -- “Let’s try another five pounds!” I chirp, before hitting my failure point 75% of the way through my second set on each machine.
(Trainer Dude apologizes yet again. I assure him it was because I didn’t hydrate. We agree that we have to trick ourselves into drinking water. I contemplate the genius of La Croix, as the latest step in Big Water’s quest to get all of us into spending money on providing our bodies with basic needs.)
When we get to the incline sit-up bench and he tells me “Do as many as you can,” I take him at his word and show off by powering through 35 sit-ups. I regret this when he tells me to do a second set, and only make it through 15.
The next day, though, I get one of my favorite feelings: good-sore. My muscles are telling me I worked, and I feel accomplished!
Wednesday, 1/10: My official First Workout with my new trainer, Trainer Gal, is scheduled for next week, but I know that if you wait more than a couple of days between lifting you lose progress. After work I head to the gym.
The vibe is very different in the after-work hours than in the middle of the day, unsurprisingly. All the lockers are full. Three-quarters of the people there look like dedicated fitness-junkies: fashionable athletic wear or marathon participant T-shirts, a sheen of sweat, and a self-confident air as they move from exercise to exercise. The other quarter look more like me: the people with the slightly hesitant posture looking around for what to do next. All of us, newbies and veterans, kind of avoid eye contact -- although I do wave at Trainer Dude from the incline sit-up bench, when I see him showing another prospective newbie around.
Although I’m trying to live by the maxim that there are no dumb questions, and that talking to people is not an imposition, I pretty much keep to myself and figure out how to adjust the machines on my own when I need to. I catch sight of myself in a mirror while I’m doing tricep extensions and feel like a child. The men working out around me all have ten to twelve inches of height on me and are j a c k e d. Me? I’m an itty-bitty girl in an oversized T-shirt struggling to maintain form through my last couple of reps.
But in spite of the awkward vibe, I feel pretty good by the time I finish up. I’ve pushed myself again, but not quite as hard as on Monday. I feel like I’m triangulating, overshooting and undershooting what I’m capable of to find where I’m challenged.
That said, even as I’m walking home, I can feel my muscles starting to complain. I expect to be sore tomorrow.
Today, Thursday 1/11, sitting up in bed SUCKED and I kind of perversely love it. You and me, abs. We’re going the distance.
