Last September Jeff and Marisa sat us all down and told us the plan for our Transformation program: we were going to work out with them for a year and transform our lives. At the time I felt like an interloper in the gym, a person who didn't belong. I balanced precariously on the exercise ball I was sitting on in the group exercise room with the others, terrified that I was either going to fall off of it or that it was going to pop. I looked around at the group of strangers around me who had similar glazed over expressions on their faces. A year. Wow. Such a long time it seemed. At the time I was there because I knew it was my last chance, but I truly felt like I could grow a second head easier than I could do what they were telling us we were about to do. I was in near panic just sitting on that exercise ball amongst all of the fitness equipment, in such close proximity to people who - gasp - voluntarily exercised.
Fast forward to present time. A year has passed. Those strangers have now become some of my dearest friends, the gym has become my happy place, I'm now a person that people come to when they have questions about the gym or the daily classes, and I'm no longer scared of the exercise ball. I've crunched on it, bounced on it, balanced on it for push-ups, and stretched out across it on my back in the "I'm Ready Jesus" pose at the end of a hard workout. Amongst other things.
How quickly a year passes... Yesterday was our last official workout of our program. After our final official weigh-in (90 pounds lost!) Jeff and Marisa led us outside where we proceeded to jog through the parking lot and down to the river walk. As we jogged I thought about the many walks Marisa and I have taken, the deep conversations, the increasing distances, and the random things we've seen like an abandoned pair of granny panties that were left around a pole for weeks and a huge raccoon that burst out of the rushes. I thought about how I finally got Sylvia out there one day (she hates outside) for a walk, only to have a huge fish swim up along side the pier and go into death throws in front of us. I thought about three weeks ago when Florence, Laks, and I took a walk and planned the next phase of our journey. And I thought about the day Marisa made me sit down and up from a low piling until my legs shook and I didn't think I was going to make it back to the office. That was the day I "got low" for the first time and my quads haven't forgotten it.
It was a fitting location for our last official workout. We revisited those low squats, did quick step-ups on the pilings, bench dips on the actual benches (oh the irony), planks on the planks (okay I must be stopped) and ran, ran, ran. All too soon though, it was time to head back inside. Too soon we were back in the gym and the workout was done. We all kind of stood around in a circle, talking about how far we've come. I must admit I teared up, it was all a bit overwhelming.
But - we've got a good thing going that we intend to keep going. We're going to continue our weekly weigh-ins and try our hands at training ourselves. We have all the tools in our belt to move forward and take our journey to the next level, together. Transition 2.0 begins now.
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