So little did I know when I posted yesterday about experiencing life, that today I would get bitchslapped with the girl stick. Warning: this post will contain profanity. Today I experienced the SHIT out of my life. I'm so not a girly girl. I don't do frills, or floral stuff, or lacy things. I'm not one to spend hours on my hair and make up. I mostly wear pants. I am not "delicate". Even before I got fat, I wasn't "delicate". I was always a big bones, taller, thicker kind of woman. Solid. And that's fine. I'm also not usually super emotional. I will cry when things are sad, and I do get angry, but I'm never wimpy. At least I don't consider myself to be wimpy.
Today I was a wimpy punk-ass bitch. I should have seen it coming. I mean, all day Friday I had that 15 year old girl feeling going on. All weekend I was a little wistful and reminiscent. I was even kind of optimistic and hopeful for a few hours (totally unfamiliar territory for me). But overall, these things kept me in a good mood. Actually, almost a very good mood. I was actually at work today at 7:53. In the MORNING. That is a HUGE deal..I went to the gym yesterday after work, and I was thinking, "Man. This actually feels kinda...good!" It's getting a little easier! Maybe I should step up the intensity on the elliptical." Then today....still pretty good. Got some important things done at work, maybe not quite as optimistic and hopeful as the weekend, but still..doing good. Then I left work and went to meet with my trainer Rashaad, who will from this day forth be known as The Devil's Proctologist.
TDP as we will call him to save time, greeted me with a sandwich in hand. Asked if I'd warmed up. I lied and said sort of. He made me go upstairs ans run for 5 minutes. Ok, not terrible. Come back down, thinking we are ready for some weight machines. Only, wait....he is walking PAST the machines and heading for the stretching room. This is Not. Good. James had me in there once and it ended badly. I tell TDP this. He grins like a maniac. We enter the chamber of horror. First things first, he says. High step jogging in place for 30 seconds, then butt-kick jogging in place for 30 seconds. Guys, you may want to cover your ears for this part. Ladies...some of you can sympathize with me here. I am not exactly dainty in the chest area. While 30 seconds is NOT a long time, and I was wearing a sports bra, things were getting ugly. I'm pretty sure TDP's goal today was to break me down. And it took awhile, I'm proud to say. I made it through one set of girly push-ups, one set of lunges, one set of squats and one set of what I like to call "parachute moves". Then he gave me the maniacal grin again and said the two words he knew would crush my spirit. Plank. Hold. After that it's mostly a blur, mostly because I FREAKIN CRIED. Not only did I have a tear or two, I was like full-on, girly, tears, hyperventilating CRYING. But damn it if I didn't finish EVERY set of EVERY exercise he threw at me. True, I had to pause a few times to take a minute to try and calm down so I could breathe. But I did it. He was clearly embarrassed, and tried to explain that his role was to push me, blah, blah blah, to which I replied "I hate your freakin guts".
Thursday I will get my one month measurements. He was already prepping me in case I don't quite make what I thought I would, but you know what? Even if I didn't lose a single pound...even if I didn't lose a single inch...I am sleeping better at night, I am in a better mood during the day, and my heart HAS to be healthier than it was 30 days ago. So I will take what I can get.
Now if you will excuse me, I have to go bawl into a bowl of ice cream and then take a shower.
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