So. The running thing? It’s not really happening anymore. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s rewind a little, shall we?
A few months ago I’d hit a bit of a rut at the gym. I had gotten to a point where I dreaded going because it was the same old stuff every time. Walk and run for a bit on the treadmill, do a couple arm and leg machines and go home. Repetition works, right?
But here’s the third reason why I love Planet Fitness.
(First two reasons are 1) because there are only like 5 mirrors in the whole place so I don’t have to watch myself looking gross and 2) because if you act like a douchebag at the gym, they literally RING AN ALARM to call you out in front of everyone and that is my kind of gym.)
OK, so the third reason. They realize that some people don’t make the amount of money required to pay to see a personal trainer on the reg. For example, me. I got expenses. And I like the occasional avocado.
They do this thing where you can meet with the trainer they have on staff, the trainer sets you up with a plan, teaches you all the parts of the plan and then sets you free to spread your little wings and fly. Oh, they check in with you, too. And for those that can make it happen, they also set certain dates to actually spot your workout and stuff.
So, a little while ago (a couple months ago, I guess) I met with a trainer. His name is Antonio because of course it fucking is. And he’s fairly attractive and kind of built and I worried that I might be distracted by his cuteness but then I noticed he had longer fingernails than most girls I know, including me, so that fixed that right up.
And we talked about my goals and what I’d done before and how I really needed to keep the Anxiety Monster quiet and the Depression Monster tamed, so whatever he thought was best I’d do it.
First question? How many days a week can you work out? I said probably 4. He said 5 would be good. But 4 was OK. Cool. Off to a grreeeeeeeat start.
I feel like I’m a good judge of people, and can read them pretty well. And Antonio? I still have not figured him out, y’all.
The first few times we met up he forgot we had set a meeting (perhaps why this service is free?) or forgot my name or both. Oh and looked literally anywhere but at me the whole time he spoke to me. And he also kicked my ass.
He showed me some other options for cardio – better ones than the treadmill I’d gotten so tired of – including the arc trainer, which makes me feel like a cross-country skier and I may or may not be addicted to.
And he took me through what’s called the 30-Minute Circuit at Planet Fitness. 20 steps (machines and literal step exercises), 30 minutes. You use a machine the whole time the light is green, when it turns red you go to the next one and repeat until you’ve done all 20 steps. The first day doing that was rough. Bless him for thinking my poor little jelly arms were strong and putting all the arm machines at 40 pounds for a starting point. And also, fuck that.
Aside: I am writing this after a 30-Minute Circuit Day and the arm machines are my new Everest. And I think I’ve messed up my elbow joints. Or maybe it’s the Bone Islands. Click on that link but don’t look up Bone Island yourself because there’s a 97 percent chance that’s probably the name of one or more porns.
We did a full-body workout day and that was a real treat. Because we used the free weights. And I realized that 5-pound free weights in each hand feel like I’m lifting a car when made to do certain exercises. Oh. Also, that day marked the second time I made Antonio feel awkward because he had to hold my elbows in place for one exercise because my boobs are too big and they pushed my arms further out to the side and I couldn’t make it work on my own. (The first time was when I asked him machines would be best to fix my flat butt.)
Anyway. It has since gotten a lot easier. Antonio knows my name, tells me I’m awesome every time I see him (I’m sure he says that to all his non-paying clients) and usually remembers when we’re supposed to meet now. And I can say I am officially at the point where I can tell a major difference in how I feel. I’m by no means a gym rat these days, but that shit does wonders for people like me with this weird-ass brain chemistry. When I haven’t been able to get to the gym for a few days I mentally feel crappier, not to mention physically. Oh, and there was those times when it did wonders for my self esteem, specifically after a picture of me was posted (not by me) on Facebook, and I got texts from a couple different people commenting on how good they thought I looked.
I wish I could say I have completely overhauled my routine and can now get up and go workout before work in the morning all the time like someone who has their shit together, but I like sleep too much. And late bedtimes. But I do go 3-4 times a week every week (haven’t quite made it to 5 yet because yo girl has a vibrant social life).
I don’t say this to get congratulations or anything like that. I am putting this out there solely for accountability. When you post that you’ve been working out and then someone asks you about it out in the world, it’s embarrassing to say “Oh yeah, that’s over.” So this helps me keep at it.
And all the extra dopamine ain’t too bad either.
On account of... 