Slenderized - A Dieter’s Journey

Yesterday was brutal. Of course, I have no one else to blame but myself.

Rather than waking up and attending ballet class like a good little girl, I shut off my alarm clock and continued sleeping. (In my defense, I went to bed at roughly 5:30am and waking up at 7:30am was not a pleasant prospect, nor was my body truly able to do so.) When 11:45 rolled around, I knew I had to get out of bed because I had an appointment at noon. Luckily the place was only up the street, so I pulled on some exercise clothes and hopped in the car. When I arrived I hadn’t expected the friendly girl at the front desk would tell me to get on the mat.

Timidly, I took off my shoes and socks and the instructor looked at me, introduced himself and then told me to run. Run? Oh, this was going to be fun. I fell in with the other three students who were already making their rounds and held my own pretty well. Guess all that time I spent jogging on the treadmill was finally starting to pay off. Then we had to run sideways, then the other side, and then backwards, and then forwards. Trust me, it’s far easier to type it than do it. Even when I felt as though my lungs would explode, it didn’t let up. Eventually we stretched and then the instructor allowed us to get some water.

After the entirely too short water break, it was time to actually start. Turns out all the running and shuffling was simply the warm up. (Learning that it was only the warm up sent chills up my back because I was frightened at the prospect of what the actual workout would be.) We ended up doing more running, then running with knees high (at least waist high), then running low kicks, then front kicks, and then roundhouse kicks, and then punching. A few times, I truly thought that I would fall down dead. My chest was heaving, my heart was breaking, and sweat was soaking up my clothes.

At one point, when it probably looked as though I would die to some other people, the instructor reminded me to breathe. Yes, I completely forgot how to do that. Seriously. He explained that tensing up and stunting my breaths would only make it worse and he was right. I did my best to breathe afterwards, but it was still difficult. All I could think about was why I had stopped taking Tae Kwon Do in the first place. But, I figure this time around, I should at least get my orange belt before I throw in the towel. I’m utterly frightened at the prospect of going back, but I figure if I keep going, it will eventually get easier. (One can only hope.)

I thought that was the end of my day, but I was completely wrong. The guy from the gym, we’ll call him E, called me later in the evening around 5:30pm. Since I wasn’t expecting him to call so late, he was supposed to call around 2pm, I decided to attend happy hour. For a few moments, I thought about his question of whether I’d like to learn his work out that evening, and figured that the alcohol would wear off somewhat within an hour (I hadn’t been drinking that much–I’m not a lush after all), so I agreed. Bad idea.

On the car ride over, I thought it was prudent to mention my less than 100% sober state and he warned me that I may vomit. Oh joy, I thought. When the work out itself actually started, I was instantly transformed into a whining wussy. Within the first 15 minutes, my body was heaving in protest and my legs and stomach were on fire. It felt like I was in the throes of the worst flu I’d ever had to deal with in my life. Buckets of sweat was pouring from me. By the time it was all over, I’d vowed never to drink again. (Or, at least, never to drink and then work out afterwards again.)

What made the situation even worse was that it brought back brutal memories from Tae Kwon Do earlier in the day. He had me run, he had my run sideways, the other side, and backwards–all on a treadmill, mind you. Have you ever tried to run sideways or backwards on a treadmill going 3MPH? It’s not easy. Even dropping the speed to 2MPH (which I had to beg beyond all begging to get him to do), it was still right up there on the difficulty scale. And in between each bout with the treadmill, he’d have me do some painful–and unmodified for women–ab workout, with and without weight. It hurt. To put it mildly.

At the end of the workout, I was completely grateful to him for putting up with my shit and completely embarrassed for even showing that icky side of myself. One, I should not have been sweating that much (according to him, it looked like I dunked myself in a pool)–a side effect of alcohol before working out, two, I should not have bitched and complained as much as I did, and third, I should not have been that uncoordinated. For goodness’ sake, I dance 5 days a week and have been doing so for nearly a year–I should have better balance and coordination than I displayed.

But, when all was said and done and I got E safely back home, we talked. He showed me a side of himself that I didn’t fully expect. He allowed me to interview him and he was quite forthcoming. As he spoke, I saw glimpses of maturity. (Did I forget to mention that E tends to be somewhat immature, playful, and goofy 99% of the time?) In fact, he moved me to be kind to him even after that horridly painful workout. We went to get a bite to eat and he shared a bit more of himself with me. Somehow I didn’t want to leave him. Although I was supposed to go to the movies, I forwent it so I could spend the time listening to E tell me about himself and his life. All was forgiven by the time I’d left.

This morning, however, it came flashing back to me in a wave of pain when I tried to get out of bed. Oh goodness am I sore. Guess they weren’t kidding when they told me I would discover muscles I wasn’t certain I had. Truly, madly, deeply, I hope it gets easier.

On a totally brighter note, I’ve lost another couple pounds since I last updated.

Tags: gym, martial arts, personal training, tae kwon do, weight loss
Filed under: Curse-Worthy Moments, Personal Ramblings, Shedding Pounds